Wolves and Hounds
by slightlynerdy
Summary: 'But this indulgence will surely bring more problems into her life, won't it? When you play with fire, you get burned.' The Starks have an elder daughter, Tarynn. An emotionally unsure but academically driven woman who falls in love with the wrong man and witnesses horrors that leave her scarred forever. The rating will go up as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from whatever characters I have made up and don't feature in the Game of Thrones series._

__Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter One.

She could hear Rickon's laughing even from where she sat, at her desk in front of a window that overlooked the front yard. From her vantage point she could see Robb and Jon, practicing their fighting with heavy iron swords. Rickon ran between them, his short toddler legs sometimes tripping him up. Bran sat on top of barrel, a small pile of stones next to him. Every so often he would pick up one of the stones and throw it at the wall, a sure sign that the second youngest Stark was bored. She longed to go out and join them, she wanted to pick up Rickon and whirl him around, she wanted to sit with Bran and hear him tell her the most recent tale that Nan had retold to him. And yet she couldn't, mainly because she had a piece of embroidery to finish off, and she also had to finish her report of the war and give it to Maester Luwin. She had been the tender age of two, when the mad King Aerys had been killed by a member of his very own Kingsguard. Her brother Robb and half-brother Jon hadn't even been born yet.

She sighed before dipping her quill back into the ink pot and writing out her next sentence; 'Princess Elia Martell, wife to Prince Rhaegar was then killed by Gregor Clegane, of House Clegane.' She had written three parchments worth so far, and her right hand was stiff with the after effects of writing too much. She stretched out her hand, the knuckles popping and clicking which offered her little relief. She looked over her work, her small, spidery writing filled up the space that the parchment allowed, it wasn't messy, but it wasn't fit to be turned into a book. Pushing aside her work, she stood and stretched her back, running her fingers through her knotted dark brown hair. She had the Stark colouring, pale skin, dark brown hair. But her eyes were of a bright blue, a trait that had been handed down to her by her mother. She and her brother looked strikingly similar, except that he had wild auburn hair as well as the Tully eyes.

She went to the looking glass which had spots of age on it, and inspected her features more clearly; she had a scar on her chin where a dog had scratched her when she had been around three years old. And the faint puckered circles left the traces of pimples that she used to have, gone now thanks to one of Maester Luwin's concoctions. She was slender, but not bony, and she still had a little weight around her stomach and hips. Her mother said that she was born to bear children, which to be honest wasn't very reassuring because childbirth was supposed to be one of the most painful things to have to go through. She picked up her brush, the white bristles were frayed and the wood which had the carvings of wolves on was scratched and fading. It had been her great-grandmother's on her father's side. She never knew the woman but she had heard from her father that she had been as tough as the northern landscape in which she had been born.

She ran it through her hair, meeting resistance whenever she got to a particularly tough knot, she tugged and pulled. Before giving up and gently separated her hair through the use of her fingers. The problem with having long, waist length hair was that it got knotted, no matter what type of lotions you put in it. After she had finished brushing it through she wound her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and secured it with a strip of blue cloth, which matched her heavy blue dress. The dress was to keep her warm, as in the North, even though it was summer, it was still freezing. It wound round her body and was secured on her left side by four buttons, the fabric was soft, a light blue, with tinges of grey. The inside of the dress had an inlay of a warmer woolly fabric, which was thin but kept her warm. Cream embroidery decorated the end of the skirt.

Gathering her coat she shrugged that on over her dress, it was a mixture of wool and bear fur, it had been her gift upon reaching her 17th name day. She then scooped up her papers before exiting her room. As she walked along the stone corridor that was illuminated by the light streaming in from the window at the end, she heard a slam and then running footsteps. Quite out of nowhere Arya Stark, her youngest sister, came careening around the corner.

"Tarynn!" The little girl's voice was tinged with breathlessness, "You have to help me! Septa Mordane…"

"Arya Stark, you come back here this instance, you have embroidery to unpick and re-do. Running around hallways, and pushing over your brother Bran aren't very lady like things to do. I…"

Septa Mordane was the next person to come round the corner, Arya had reached her older sister, hiding behind her and clutching the back of her skirts. The Septa was blustered and red faced, she was angry, but if Tarynn knew Arya then the Septa shouldn't be expecting an apology.

"Will be telling your mother and father about your behaviour," Tarynn finished her sentence off for her, "Calm down Septa, I feel that if Bran had been hurt, the whole castle would have known about it in a manner of seconds."

Septa Mordane, had also coaxed Tarynn through the awkward stages of becoming a Lady, and now that she was one, and now fit to be married, her training had stopped. There had been talks in the works of her marrying a Frey, or even worse yet Theon Greyjoy in order to strengthen ties between the Greyjoys and the Starks. However the idea of marriage frightened her, not being able to have the freedom, having to answer to the every whim of your husband. She had so far managed to convince her father not to set her up and have her married, for the time being.

"But Arya has needlework to finish off, and she has to do it properly otherwise she would have learned nothing. Every young lady has to be properly educated in the ways of being a respectable woman. Your grandmother, mother, even yourself have already been through this process. Now it is Sansa's and Arya's turn."

"But I hate needlework."

Tarynn turned to her baby sister, and crouched beside her, taking her small, skinny hand in her own. "Arya, we all have to do things that we don't like. I have to write out the entire happenings of the Rebellion and I much rather be out with my brothers in the yard. But I have to do it, even though I don't like it and you have to do your needlework too. It is part of growing up."

In her mind, what she had just said sounded hypocritical, considering how she was postponing marriage because she didn't want to do it, but in the future she would have to. Still, her words had the desired effect on the girl.

"Fine." Arya hung her head in resignation as she walked away with Septa Mordane to the room where the embroidery was taking part. Tarynn followed them, but instead of taking a left at the foot of the stairs, she took a right.

The day was a splendid one, the air still had that crisp bite to it that was often associated with northern weather, but it was a good type of cold. Not the freezing cold, but the nice, bearable cold. She stepped into the yard. Robb and Jon were still sparring, Rickon was running around still, much to the amusement of Bran who laughed whenever the baby of the family tripped up, Bran had moved from the barrel to stand near Theon Greyjoy, who was standing near the archery targets. Theon had, on his face, the same disconcerting smile that he always had. The man never stopped smiling, and it chilled Tarynn to the bone, if she ever had to marry that man, who could be brutish, sly and dabbled with many, many whores she might become the first woman to ever take the black.

"Ta! Ta!" Rickon waved at her, his eyes alight with happiness and his cheeks flushed red with the exertion of running around like a lunatic. He charged towards her, giggling as he ran, she placed her parchment down on one of the stone steps, spying a nearby rock she placed it on top of the papers, so that all her hard work wasn't carried off on the wind. When she had turned round again Rickon had almost reached her, she held out her arms and he collided into them, squealing with laughter as she span him round in the air. There was more laughter above her, the laughing voice rich, deep and reassuring.

"Father!" Bran waved up to the balcony that was above her head, and Jon and Robb stopped their practice.

"Where are Sansa and Arya?"

She placed Rickon back down on the ground and kissed the top of his head, he giggled once more before scampering off and into the castle. His aim, no doubt, was to get up on the balcony with father. She walked out from beneath the balcony's shade and into the middle of the yard.

"They're with Septa Mordane, finishing their embroidery." She looked up at her father, the middle Stark, he had only become Lord of Winterfell because his brother Brandon had died, killed by the mad King Aerys. He was growing old, and the signs were showing. His face was lined and his hair held flecks of grey but despite it all he still seemed strong and fit enough to hold himself in battle. He smiled down at her, his skin wrinkling around his eyes.

"Is that so, Bran run to your sisters, there is something that your mother and I need to tell…"

He was interrupted by the portly Ser Rodrik Cassel, the trusted Master-at-Arms, and teacher of Robb, Jon and Theon in the art of swordplay, "My Lord, excuse me for the interruption, but I have received news that some of the outlying guardsmen have caught sight of a deserter."

Her father echoed his words, "A deserter?"

"We believe he has come from the Wall." There was a grim expression on her father's face, his lips drew into a thin line and his brow furrowed, she knew that look; he was debating the best course of action. And her father always made that face when he had to make a particularly harsh decision, but whatever that decision turned out to be he always made it to be the righteous and lawful one, even if it was hard to enact it and put to work.

"Tomorrow, at first light we will deal with this deserter, send a message to the guards who have caught him, keep him bound and feed him one meal. But that is all.

Ser Rodrick nodded, and with a slight bow of his head departed, most likely to carry out the order he had just been given. Tarynn stepped forward; her mind was filled with curiosity. Before Ser Rodrik had come with the _news_ of the deserter from the Wall, father had declared that he had some _news_ for them.

"Father, you were going to share something with us"

"Not now Tarynn that can wait until tomorrow, I have other matters I must deal with first. For now ready yourselves for dinner, we sup when the sun lowers in the sky." He turned to leave, Rickon's tiny meaty hand in his own large one, she hadn't seen Rickon appear on the balcony earlier. Her father must've remembered something else for he turned half towards her. "Maester Luwin is looking for you, something about a passage on the Rebellion."

_Passage? Pfft! More like a tome._

"I know. I shall go find him."

He smiled faintly, before turning on his heel and exiting the balcony, Rickon's hand still in his own.

"A deserter?! Does that mean father will execute him?"

Robb was looking at Jon when he had asked the question but it was Theon who answered, the bold man of nineteen sauntered over to where the two fifteen year olds stood, his walk was over-confident, his voice held the traces of cockiness.

"Of course he'll execute him; if he's deserted the Wall then he's a dead man. Nobody leaves the Wall, not unless they want their head on a stick."

She intervened, there were certain reasons as to why a deserter of the Wall was killed by whichever Lord of Lordling caught him, and she wanted to educate her brothers in this. "What Theon says is true, but there are reasons as to why they are killed if they desert. When men take the Black they take vows of Chastity," She threw a pointed glance at Theon, everyone, even her Father knew of his liaisons with the Brothel workers. He seemed to get the message, but she got the wrong response, his awful grin stretched even more over his face. "And they pledge to give their lives to protect the Wall against wildlings and others that might manifest in the far North. They spend day and night protecting the Wall, and us, from whatever threats that may lay behind its icy expanse." She felt proud of herself, and she half wished that Maester Luwin had been there to hear her lecture her brothers on the nature of the Night's Watch. She remembered when she was fourteen and had begged her Father to let her be tutored in History and Ancient Literature, her wish had been granted and Maester Luwin had begun to teach her all he knew about the history of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.

And now, three years later, she had learned everything from when the first Targaryen put his foot on the soil of the Seven Kingdoms until King Robert's Rebellion against the mad King Aerys. Her brothers didn't care much for the history of old neither did Sansa, but Arya and Bran's eyes would light up whenever she started to retell the history of the North to them. Bran would always ask after the Knights, Arya would always question about any female warriors that may have cropped up. She loved telling them about it, she loved telling them stories. When she had been a little girl, it hadn't been Princes and romance that she had dreamed of, or marriage or being swept off her feet by a handsome Knight but of writing books and becoming the best story teller the world had ever seen. Her Mother and Father had encouraged her notions as one would with a child. But as she grew older, giving birth to many children was more likely then writing a great tome. It saddened her heart.

"Uncle Benjen joined the Night's Watch, if he deserted…"

She knew what Jon was asking, he doted on Uncle Benjen whenever he visited and she didn't have it in her heart to tell him that Father would probably have to execute Uncle Benjen too, should he ever desert. Instead she looked upon the two fifteen year olds, both on the brink of manhood.

"Look, don't worry about it; it's neither here nor there. Go, get ready for dinner. Like Father said."

They moved slowly, picking up their swords that lay forgotten in the dust of the yard, what she had been saying had made them sombre, and almost depressed. She wished she had never said anything about it, and had left Theon to explain, but as ever her desire to flaunt her knowledge reared its ugly head. The boys' dampened mood left her slightly irritable, and she turned from Theon, who for once had stopped his smiling. She recovered her parchment from the stone steps, tossing the rock she had been using as a weight to the side.

"Allow me to help you find the Maester."

She didn't straighten, instead pretended to busy herself with ordering her work. Knowing Theon he would be standing close, seeing as he didn't really have any sense of personal space.

"I'm sure I can find him on my own, I don't need an escort… Or a chaperon," She moved away from him, and crossed the yard, towards where the Kitchen was. The Maester's room was above it, a long thin room with shelves filled with different items in glass jars and heavy books filled with all kinds of script, she was currently translating one that had been written in the common tongue of the Free Cities, it was long and arduous but she enjoyed it, and as a result was fluent in the language. She walked around a large muddy puddle before stepping into the warmth of the kitchen, the servants inside politely bowed their heads but she didn't expect anything else, they were busy after all. She crossed over the room towards a wooden door, opening it revealed a staircase that wound upwards. It led to the Maester's room.

When she reached the top of the spiral staircase she found the door slightly ajar, she knocked twice before pushing it open. The Maester himself was at the window, tending to his birds.

"Tarynn, do you have your writings on the Rebellion for me? They are a day late as it is."

"I do," She put them down on the Maester's messy table. "I hope they are of a good standard."

"No doubt that you have put your best effort into it," He turned from the window to face her; he was a short man, old and grey but wise. His Maester's chain glinted round his neck, "and that is all I can ask for."

"You will be joining us for dinner I presume?"

"I shall, I mean to start Bran in his tutoring on the morrow, and hopefully I will get a chance to talk to Lord Stark about Bran's education this evening at dinner. That boy is bright but he seems to have his heart set on being a Knight."

"Don't all young boys dream of that?"

"Not all, but the majority…" He turned his head again to gaze out the window, seeing something that she could not. "But still I do not wish to keep you; I shall see you at dinner."

She bid her farewells and retreated from the room. Closing the door softly behind her, she half ran down the spiral stairs, almost colliding with a servant girl who had her arms filled with vegetables. She muttered a sorry but the girl just looked at her wide-eyed before skittering off. She left the kitchen, left the warmth and clamours of pots and pans and traded it for the cold of the outdoors.

"Found him then?" Theon was lounging against the wall beside the kitchen door, his lazy smile spread across his face. "Why do you waste your time with that old fool and those books anyway, a pretty girl like you could find many other amusements I'm sure."

His question open ended, but his suggestion was clear. She could feel bile rising in her throat as her anger did. Theon Greyjoy was too sure of himself, and too expectant that whatever woman he spoke honeyed words to was going to just tumble into his bed and never leave. She wasn't going to be one of those women.

"Theon why don't you go to the Brothel, I'm sure you'll find something to your liking there."

His smile grew even wider, "My _liking _is even closer to home."

_This isn't your home though; you're the son of a man who is made of the same iron as his island is._

She walked away with a scoff and a look of disgust. She still had her maidenhood and if he thought she was going to give it to every man who showed her some attention or interest then he was wrong. She wasn't like Gatehouse Ami.

She could feel his eyes on her back but she ignored him. True, Theon was handsome but his personality was an ugly thing. Her mind briefly flickered to what she was going to wear for dinner tonight, she would have a bath, and perhaps wear the green dress that she had spied hanging up in her wardrobe this morning.

As she climbed the stairs that led to her chambers she also wondered about the news that father had said he had. She was intrigued, and her curiosity flickered as she made up several conclusions about what it could be.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry that it has been so long since I last updated but what with Christmas and travelling back home to see my family it has been a busy period of time, hopefully however I will be able to update regularly, but the chapters are quite long anyway. Thank you for the review and the follows that this story has received. Knowing that people are reading spurs me on so much and I will strife to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.

Thank you so much!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter Two.

She woke to the sound of a cart being unloaded and the grunts of men in the yard below, a cold draft seeped into the room from an entrance unknown. Her stomach grumbled, and she shivered, pulling her covers up to her chin. The sky outside was a milky white, there were no other blemishes. She stood. The coldness of the room startling and causing goosebumps to rise up on her skin, she gathered her bed covers around her and went to the window. There was no sign of Robb or Jon Snow sparring in the yard, meaning that her father and brothers had left to deal with the deserter already, they would be gone for the best part of the morning, so she resolved to get dressed and go down and find Sansa, apparently they younger girl wanted some advice.

She was happy to give whatever assistance she could, but she didn't know if it was of any worth. Sansa was one of those girls who longed for a handsome Knight and a castle, and Tarynn really wasn't the one to educate her in the way of love. Considering how she hadn't ever experienced it. She had read about it in books, sure. But she hadn't ever had it affect her. She moved to her wardrobe, dropping the covers on the floor as her body adjusted to the temperature. She opened it and was faced with a few choices on what to wear for the day. Her dress from the previous night, dark green velvet, was left over the back of her desk chair. She would have to take it down to be washed for Rickon had spilt some of his gravy over her the previous night and it had left a dark brown stain on the fabric. At the moment she was only wearing a thin white sleep dress, and she couldn't waltz out of her room in just that.

She pulled from her wardrobe a grey dress, similar to the one that she wore the day before but it had no embroidery on the skirt. She pulled that on over her smallclothes and braided her long brown hair. When she looked in the looking glass she looked presentable. She went to where her shoes were, all lined up in a row on a low wooden table that Robb had crafted when he had exclaimed to everyone rather memorably at the table one morning that he was going to become a carpenter. He was only twelve and had been to the village the previous day, her mother said that he had been mesmerised by the hammers that hung on the stone wall in the carpenter's shop. The low wooden table, which had sneakily been moved from the front hall to her bedroom, was the product of Robb's labours. The wood didn't match, and she had to slip a book under one of the legs because it was shorter then the others but it still served its purpose.

She took from off the table, a pair of battered brown lace up boots; the oldest pair she owned. Her mother always complained whenever she wore them, and twice Tarynn had to stop her from throwing them out. But they were comfortable, and they still had life in them yet. She sat on the edge of the bed and tugged them onto her feet; she laced them up before standing and smoothing out her skirts. She picked up her dirtied dress and folded it over her arm before leaving her room and heading downstairs to break her fast.

When she reached the small dining room she was surprised to see her mother Catelyn Stark still occupying the table. Her mother was originally of House Tully, but had married Eddard Stark in order to strengthen the ties between the two houses. However before her marriage to father, she had been betrothed to Brandon Stark, the eldest son, and original heir to Winterfell. He had been killed though, by the Mad King Aerys. It was quite horrific.

"Tarynn Stark, what are on your feet?!"

So she had noticed them then, she lifted up her skirts so that her mother could see her boots, "Why they're shoes mother, comfortable inventions that stop your feet from getting cold when walking."  
"Stop the sarcasm young lady this instant."

The relationship with her mother was just as strained as the relationship she had with Arya. Both had different ideas and morals. Catelyn wanted her eldest daughter married and producing grandchildren. Tarynn wanted to see the world and write books on her escapades. They were quite at odds with one another whenever the topic of the future popped up. But, Tarynn knew when to stop, she dropped her gaze and sat at the table, reaching for a hunk of bread that had been sliced off the end of a loaf.

"Father has gone then?" She reached for the butter that was sat on top of a clay dish with a knife, cutting some of it off.

"Yes, with your brothers. He even took Bran," She stopped spreading the butter on her bread and looked up, her mother must've seen the look of shock on her face because she reached across and gently caressed the top of Tarynn's hand. "Yes I admit, Bran is only seven and I did question your father's decision on taking him, but he is stubborn, and would not relent. He said that it would do Bran some good to see the horrors of this world." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, "I just wish he didn't have to see it quite yet."

Tarynn understood, her brother was still innocent and trusting, his blue eyes betrayed his every emotion and he could not lie if his life depended on it. It would be a sad day the day that Bran lost his innocence.

"So father is going to execute this man?"

"Yes. In front of his sons," She took a breath before opening her eyes again, "To show them what it means to be a leader, and a man of your word. You do not allow others to do what is your duty for it is the way of the old… and to show them that winter is coming." She stood, the chair scraping across the stone floor. "Sansa was looking for you this morning; I don't know what for but she seemed flustered."

"I know mama; I will find her soon and perhaps be of help to any worry that has begun to bother her."

"Well have a good day my sweet." As she swept past, Catelyn Tully gently touched her daughter on the shoulder, her subtle way of displaying affection to her oldest and most stubborn child. She saw much of Eddard in her, and nothing of herself.

When the door closed behind her mother, Tarynn took a bite out of bread, her mind pondering over what the day might bring as she chewed the fluffy morsel. Her mind wandered again to the news her father said he had, her imagination running wild as she thought of exciting things that could be the news. Perhaps she was going to be warded in the South, maybe they were going to go travelling in the Free Cities… Perhaps they were going to visit Grandpa and Uncle Edmure in Riverrun. The most likely conclusion was that her father had found her a betrothed. She shivered as her mind ran over that thought, even though she didn't like the idea of marrying, and didn't really have a penchant for all things romantic, she had hoped her parents would allow her to marry when she was ready.

As her thoughts took a depressing turn the door creaked open and in slipped Sansa. At eleven years old she was slight and beautiful. Her hair was fiery red and her eyes pale blue. She was prettier then all the Stark children combined, a fact she knew. However she wasn't very ambitious, and was driven only by the fact that one day she would have her own holdings and be a wonderful wife to some handsome Lord. She was a typical High-Born girl.

"Sansa, I was just about to look for you," The girl's pretty blue eyes were filling with tears, her lower lip trembled, "Oh Sansa." Tarynn stood and pulled her younger sister into her arms, "What's wrong?"

"Sansa's voice wobbled as she spoke, her words choked and almost unintelligible, "It's just…"

"What? Is it Arya? Has she hurt you again?" Only a few weeks ago had Arya smacked Sansa across the arm with a stick from the Godswood. It had left a bright red mark before settling into a gruesome purple bruise that covered most of Sansa's forearm. Arya was forced to stay in her bedroom for three days, something that the adventurous creature had hated.

"It's… No she hasn't hurt me." Tarynn pulled away, holding the girl at arms length so that she could look at her, checking her over for anymore bruising. "It's just, I overheard mother and father, they want me to be warded somewhere else, they don't want me here any longer. They love Arya more that's why they want me to go."

She burst into tears and Tarynn knew that the scenario wasn't as bad as Sansa had made it out to be. It was just a sisterly rivalry that Sansa and Arya had going between them, unfortunately Sansa could be a tad sensitive and all too trusting that what people discussed was what was going to happen, which wasn't the case in many circumstances.

"Being a ward isn't so bad," She wracked her brain for an example, "Look at Theon. He's perfectly happy about where he is and doesn't complain… Too much. And besides Sansa, if you become a ward perhaps you will meet your Prince!"

The girl nodded and sniffed, Tarynn reached for a white handkerchief that was lying on the table, "Here." The girl accepted it and blew her nose, "And they're not going to send you away because they love Arya more, don't be silly."

Sansa smiled faintly, "Tarynn… Thank you."

Tarynn gave the girl one more embrace, "Now go, or Mordane will have you head."

Tarynn felt accomplished, she had comforted her normally spiteful sister and had found something in common with her mother. They both believed that Bran was too young to be seeing a man's head being loped off. She felt it was quite insensitive of her father to insist that Bran was there, but then again, like her mother said, her father was stubborn when it came to things like that.

Tarynn reached for an apple, its skin was red and as she rolled it around in her hands, searching for any blemishes, she contemplated what life would be like in the South; which was obviously where this apple came from. That or the Free Cities although the South seemed a more likely conclusion. Father had often spoken of the weather when he had been to King's Landing in the days of the rebellion, his description was that the air was filled with moisture and the heat battered you in waves. Even the strongest man could fight for only so long in the hot, winding streets that weaved beneath Aegon's High Hill and the Red Keep. But she longed for that, longed for a break when she didn't have to put on ten layers so as not to freeze to death. She wanted to run barefoot through soft green grass, instead of stomping through cold wet snow.

She sighed, taking a bite out of the apple when the door creaked open for a second time.

"I'm sorry Mi'Lady. I thought you had all finished," The girl went to leave.

"No, no. I was just about to leave anyway. Please." She stood and gestured to the table, "Do what you need to do." With an apple in one hand and her dirty dress in the other, Tarynn departed from the small dining room. The girl stepped out of the way as Tarynn passed.

She walked down the hallways, eating her apple as she went, and across the great hall to the kitchen, preferring to take the inside route in stead of crossing over the yard. Upon reaching the kitchen she handed her dress over to one of the laundry girls with instructions on where the stain was and what type of material the dress was made out of. The girl she had handed it to had just stood there staring blankly at her, when Tarynn had asked wherever she needed the instructions to be repeated the girl shook her head, did a small curtsey and ran off. The spoilt green velvet dress clutched to her chest. Tarynn threw her apple core onto a metal container that was already piled high with scraps. The apple's juice was still sticky on her fingers as she pushed open the door that led to Maester's room. Then she remembered something.

She darted out into the yard to see a trail of men carrying items, flasks, bottles, books into the turret below the rookery. Maester Luwin was moving rooms so that he could be closer to his ravens, that way he need not walk so far. He wasn't exactly a young man any longer. She weaved through the men, some were servants of the castle, and others must've come from the village for she did not recognise all of them. She slipped through a gap in the chain, and entered the Maester's, new, turret.

It was large and cylindrical, the inside held bookshelves and furniture, moved there already it seemed by the men that the Maester had conscripted into helping him. The man himself was hunched over at the back, a large tome in his hands. He wasn't moving so whatever book he was reading must have been rapturing, she decided to break him from his reverie.

"Maester Luwin?" She approached him, her eyes flickering from the Maester to the tome that was being held in his arms, she had hoped for a glimpse of the cover but to no avail.

"Oh, Tarynn I didn't see you come in." He closed the book with an audible snap before sliding it onto a shelf already crammed with books of various shapes and sizes. "What can I do for you today?"

"I was hoping that you had some more reading material for me, I've finished Erlwin's recount of the Andal Invasion, and his detailing is extraordinary. Considering how he wrote his account 200 years after the initial attack.."

"Sources my dear and you should be wondering how his account has lasted over 5'000 years. He most likely travelled the country, collecting old wives tales and different view points on how the invasion happened and what the Andals did to the Children of the Forest and so on… But here I am mumbling on, you would like a new book, yes?"

"I would, something else to keep me occupied when I can't sleep at night."

Maester Luwin turned away from her and went to another bookcase that had been erected in a different part of the turret, "Are you still having trouble with sleeping at night Tarynn?"

"I just keep having these strange dreams," She raised a hand to her head, smoothing out her hair a little before letting her hand fall to her side, "They seem so vivid and real but I know there not real, like I'm in a waking nightmare."

Maester Luwin turned back around, "I'll get something for you to use which will help you sleep better… Now here, this is an interesting tome." He handed her a heavy book, the cover was brown leather and on the front a sigil had been pressed into it. "It's a recount of the Children of the Forest, scraps of lore that bards and travellers have collected over the ages. It makes interesting bedtime reading. But don't believe everything that has been written into it. The Children of the Forest are stuff of legends."

She clasped the book to her chest, "Thank you Maester Luwin," She gazed around the room, which was still quite bare, "Do you need any help?"

"Why yes, if you could just order these jars on that shelf over there that would be of great help."

Tarynn spent the rest of the morning helping Maester Luwin settle into his new dwelling, she had labelled ingredients, and ordered books according to their first runes. It was calming, and she lost track of time, that was until she heard the sound of hooves and voices in the yard. She placed the last book from the stack that Maester Luwin had handed her, a collection of poems and songs, and ventured out into the yard.

"Father!" Rickon came running out towards the horses, Arya close behind. Her mother and Sansa, who was no longer crying and seemed to have regained her composure, were stood in the main entrance. Her father dismounted his horse, a dark grey courser, and gathered up his youngest children in his arms, he kissed the top of Arya's head and ruffled Rickon's hair, who gave a childish giggle before sitting down on the stone floor.

She looked past her father to where Theon, Robb, Jon and Bran sat, still on their horses. In their arms there was what looked like a wriggling mass of fur, which were in an array of colours. Theon caught her gaze and motioned her over, his grin stretching over his face. He raised one of the bundles of fur up, and as Tarynn drew nearer she realised that it wasn't just skins of an animal that they had hunted but rather an actual animal. The creature that Theon had lifted up, by the scruff of the neck, was dark brown almost black but not quite, with bright blue eyes. It growled and scrabbled in Theon's grasp.

"Wolves?"

Her father appeared behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Not just any wolves, direwolves."

Bran piped up from a top his pony, "Like our sigil Tarynn," In his arm nestled another of the wolves.

"Where did you find them?" She accepted the wolf from Theon, who when held in her arms stopped struggling and licked the side of her face.

"On our way back from the… We found them on the outskirts of the forest, their mother had been killed," The bastard's eyes bored into her own, he was sitting in the saddle of the horse beside Theon's.

Theon bent down in his saddle, whispering in her ear, "I chose that one for you, he has the same beautiful shade of eyes as you."

Tarynn ignored his comment, and instead turned her attentions to the wolf in her arms, his blue eyes were inquisitive, as if he knew what was going on. She had read very little about the nature of direwolves, but knew that they were fearsome beasts, which men often feared. Robb dismounted and handed out one of the pups to Arya and set the other one between Rickon's legs. The toddler gasped with delight and hugged the wolf tight. Theon flashed yet another grin at her before handing her the other pup. Tarynn turned on her heel and went over to where Sansa stood in the doorway.

"Here you go," She handed over the pup to Sansa, out of the bunch, the one that was now nestled in Sansa's arms seemed to be the most docile. She was also significantly smaller than all the other direwolves.

"I hope your father has some explanation for bringing these beasts back to our home."

Sansa looked up, the tiny wolf's yellow eyes glowing faintly, "They're not beasts' mother, look at her. She's adorable."

"Don't worry mother I'm sure father has some condition that we must follow if we keep them." Her own wolf snapped its jaws, a small growl escaping from it.

Her mother sighed under her breath, "Your father always has a condition for everything, I hope he has, I do not feel comfortable in my home with wild beasts prowling the halls."

Tarynn could understand, her mother was a Tully after all and wouldn't understand the importance of Direwolves to the Starks, not fully at least. Tarynn on the other hand was a Stark and had read lore over why the Starks had chosen this fearsome breed of wolf as their emblem. The wolf in her arms nuzzled its snout against her chest, its soft dark fur rippling in the afternoon sunlight. Overhead the caw of a raven echoed across the sky.

"A raven? At this time of day? Tell your father I will speak with him later, I must fetch whatever the raven brings from Maester Luwin."

Sansa and Tarynn watched as their mother crossed the yard, Maester Luwin fell in to walk beside her as she neared the rookery. Tarynn turned from Sansa, whose attention was solely on the pup in her arms and approached her younger brother Robb. Even though he was two years younger than her he stood a head taller, his auburn hair was vibrant in the sun.

"Sister, I can see that you have chosen your wolf well, his fur matches your hair."

"Theon chose him for me apparently." She glanced over to where the Ironborn was, laughing with one of the stableboys, his longbow slung over his shoulder.

_He clearly has affections for me; surely it wouldn't be so bad if I was betrothed to him?_

The thought was washed away however when he winked at a passing kitchen girl, who giggled before hurrying off. He is too free with his affections that was his problem. He had bedded more girls then she cared to count.

"It appears to me that Theon is vying for your attention sister."

"Why does he want mine? He gets it enough from the whores that you see in the village."

Her brother laughed, his blue eyes shining beneath his mop of hair, "He has a way with woman, and perhaps that's a good thing, I have heard nothing ill said when I have spoken with the…"

She raised an eyebrow, and her brother suddenly took on a sheepish look. She didn't want to believe that her brother had visited a whore house, and yet with a friend like Theon it was hard to believe that he hadn't.

"Mind your tongue brother, or perhaps mother will find out."

He looked down at the floor before looking up again a grin on his face as the wolf in his arms licked his chin, "You love me too much to go telling on me."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean that can change."

He laughed again before striding off to where Rickon sat in the dust still, playing with the jet black wolf which was sat between his legs. Tarynn watched him as he strode off, when she felt a tug on her sleeve. It was Arya.

"Tarynn, will we practice today?"

She had been teaching her little sister how to speak the general language of the Free Cities, and Arya had picked it up quite quickly. But still Tarynn did not feel like sitting down and repeating herself over and over until she got used to a word.

"Not today Arya, but maybe we'll practise tomorrow."

The look on Arya's face was forlorn, "Why don't you go ask Theon to help you with more archery?"

She felt like she had killed two birds with one stone when Arya ran off to attract Theon's attention, the Greyjoy looked up at Tarynn briefly and she thought that her suggestion hadn't work, but she gave a sigh of relief when he moved towards the targets with Arya shadowing him, and a small dark grey wolf shadowing her.

She was left alone in the yard, Sansa had moved from her haunt in the doorway. Rickon and Robb had disappeared as well, and Jon Snow was helping the stableboys with the horses. Her father too had gone to clean his sword, Ice, in the Godswood as he was often wont to do after he had executed a man for whatever crime that had been committed.

She decided that she should perhaps relish the quietness as she didn't know how long it would last, especially when it came to choosing names for the wolves, which was going to be fun as her younger siblings loved to quarrel. She looked down at the dark brown wolf that was snuggled in her arms, his blue eyes were closed to the world and his breathing was steady and calm. She hadn't the slightest inkling of what to call him, but she knew that a name was bound to spring upon her at some point. Maybe she would find some inspiration from the new tome that Maester Luwin had lent her… Tome.

She looked down at the pup again and whispered softly, "Tome."

The wolf's ears pricked up and he turned his blue eyes to her, she held his gaze and said the word again, louder. "Tome."

Tome nuzzled further into her chest, apparently he liked the name.

She set Tome on the ground, where he teetered for a few seconds before he took a few bounds forward and looked behind at her, waiting. She followed, and went pass him, into the warmth of the Castle, the newly named Tome, at her heels.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for the favourites I received, I'm ill with the flu, which sucks so bad so instead of lying around being all lazy I decided to at least sit up in my bed and write this new chapter for you so soon after the other chapter went up. Your feedback means a lot to me and I really do appreciate it if you would leave a review. This story is slightly different from the other stories that I have seen on here, and may not be to everyone's taste but I'm glad that people are willing to just read through it. I hope you all have a lovely New Year! Thank you so much!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 3.

The atmosphere at dinner was off putting, everyone sat in silence as the food was served to them, wild deer with roasted vegetables, a true northern meal as her father would have said. However he said nothing this evening as the tension in the air was palpable. Something had happened between her mother and her father, something that her inquisitive nature wanted to find out.

Rickon, being the four year old that he was, moaned about Shaggy dog not being allowed to sit with him at the table. Shaggy dog, Shaggy for short, being the name that Rickon had chosen for his direwolf. Robb had gone with Grey Wind, Sansa had chosen Lady and Arya had of course named her wolf after some female warrior who was heavily cherished by the Martells in Dorne, Nymeria. The bastard, Jon Snow had named his albino pup Ghost. Fitting she thought, as the wolf was always in the shadows, slinking and watching from afar. Her own wolf, Tome, was in the kitchen with his fellow littermates. Bran had yet to choose a name for his own cub.

As the last plate was placed on the table, and the servers had retreated from the room, then did her father speak; his voice gruff and deep. It demanded the attention of everyone in the room, even Rickon stopped chattering away.

"Jon Arryn is dead." Tarynn looked up from her plate of food and to her father. His steel eyes betrayed nothing; no emotion was betrayed on his face. Jon Arryn had warded her father when he was young, alongside the King Robert Baratheon, he had been like a father to him. "He was taken by a fever not a fortnight pass, tomorrow morning we will all pray for him in the Godswood, to speed on his departure. Your mother will also be going to the Sept if you wish to join her…" Eddard looked to his wife Catelyn after he had finished speaking, and so it was Tarynn's mother's voice that filled the air next.

"The King and his Royal Entourage is coming to Winterfell," There were the tittering's of conversations as the Stark children exchanged looks and words of surprise. "His Highness will be here in two days hence which means a lot of preparation in order to receive him into our home. While the King and his family are here there will be no climbing Bran, Arya you will not be sparring with your brothers at all, Robb you will not visit the village during this time…" Tarynn realised that her mother already knew about Robb's exploits and watched as her younger brother ducked his head in order to avoid their mother's gaze. "And Tarynn I am sure you can put aside the books in order to treat our guests with the expected courtesy."

The only one she left out had been Sansa, but then again Sansa rarely did anything out of the ordinary.

"I hope you heed what your mother has said children, now come, let us eat before the venison grows cold."

Despite the cold start, dinner was soon filled with talk and chatter, she sat beside Bran who filled her ears with the stories Nan had been telling him. Not fully realising that Tarynn had already heard the stories many years before. Still she listened with attention to what her little brother had to say, no one could deny Bran. From across the table Sansa was aiding Rickon with his food whilst simultaneously keeping a conversation with Robb. Sansa would do well when the Royal Family arrived in Winterfell, she was born for motherhood and keeping up appearances. Didn't King Robert have a son who was also around the same age as Sansa?

"Father?"

Her father broke off his conversation with her mother in order to look at her, "Yes Tarynn, what is it?"

"How many people is King Robert bringing from the south? If it's an entourage like mother said that would be nearing a hundred."

"He never stated actual numbers Tarynn, just said that he is bringing an entourage from King's Landing. But knowing Robert like I do he is like to do things big, so we should be expecting at least eighty people, perhaps even more."

"That's an awful lot of people to bring, what does he need them for?" Bran piped up from beside her, his hand reaching up to brush the strand of hair from his eyes.

"The King doesn't need a reason. And I expect that it was the Queen who insisted that half of the city accompany them."

"Perhaps they're scared of Northmen," Robb grinned, "That's why they need to bring so many people, just to protect them from our barbaric ways."

The table laughed, it was common knowledge that southern people didn't mix with northern. Two different ways of life, two different styles of living. The day after the morrow they were like to have a feast in order to welcome the strangers into their home, the deep rumble of her father's laughter, and her mother's soft chidings were comforting.

They had a moment of calm before the storm.

The following morning the clash of swords and the shouts of men were what greeted her as she entered the yard, Rickon's tiny hand clasped in her own. Arya followed as they made their way to the Godswood where the majority of those who kept the old Gods were convening; at least the majority of the Stark family who kept the old way. Sansa had decided to go to the Sept with their mother, the vivid colours and ornate statues appealed to her more than a face carved into a tree, but Tarynn treasured the Old Gods, just like her Stark ancestors before her.

She led her youngest brother and sister through the gate that led to the hallowed pools which surrounded the tree, birds chirped in the trees, and the sound of their feet crunching the snow that had fallen on the ground added to the blissful serenity of the sacred place. She wasn't surprised to see her father kneeling before the heart tree already. Robb was to the left of him, Jon Snow was on the right. Bran was kneeling beside Robb. She let go of Rickon's hand who ran towards the praying man and boys before slumping to his own knees just behind their father.

"Arya, Tarynn, kneel so that we can pray together for Jon Arryn." Her father's voice held no emotion in it, it was just gruff and commanding, as it always was whenever he was faced with a task that held personal tones. She sank to her knees and Arya followed suit. The snow began to melt onto her cloak as her body warmth heated it up.

"Old Gods guide Jon Arryn, our friend, our mentor, our father, into the land beyond death. Make his passing easy, and allow him to rest well in his eternal slumber."

The silence that followed was chilling; even the birds had stopped their song as Lord Stark's harrowing words settled over the boughs of the heart tree. Tarynn peeked up, into the face of the tree; the red sap that lingered over its face gave the depiction that it was crying. And perhaps it was; only the Children of the Forest truly knew the secrets and powers of the old trees that were situated in the middle of the Weirwoods.

After several long minutes, her father grunted, the signal that they were allowed to stand and that their prayers for the recently deceased Jon Arryn had been long enough. When they stood however all of the children were silent, not wishing to break the powerful aura that had been summoned when their father uttered his words of prayer. They walked out in a single file, she noted how messy Arya's plait was, she had obviously avoided her maid so that it wouldn't be plaited again.

Tarynn had her own maid too, but it didn't feel right having someone dressing her when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. Gerta instead would just tidy up after her, order her papers in a chronological way and make sure that her dresses were always cleaned and put in her wardrobe. She was Tarynn's best friend and confidant, despite the fact that she was 5 years older than Tarynn and already had two small boys, her husband was one of the cooks in the kitchens. Tarynn cherished Gerta dearly, she was one of the first people she turned to whenever a problem aroused, her and Maester Luwin. Although the Maester was always obliged to tell her parents, a fact that she didn't come to realise until too late.

Once in the yard, they dispersed. Bran ran off to one of the towers, most likely to do some banned climbing. Robb and Jon were in talks of going hunting, Arya following them, hoping to be allowed to join them and Rickon had been hoisted up by her father who was going back into the castle. Once again she was left alone in the middle of the courtyard, or so she had thought.

"Finished your morning prayers then?" He grinned at her, his teeth perfectly white, his dark brown hair tousled gently in the wind, the clear grey eyes full of jest and charisma. Overconfidence. "I was hoping to catch you in fact, care to join me for a ride?"

She looked around her; she didn't have an excuse, or anyone to help her make an excuse up. She was stuck, and if the news that her father had still not divulged to her was that she was to be married to Theon Greyjoy in order to strengthen the ties between the Starks and Greyjoys then she didn't want to offend this smiling fool too much. Otherwise their forced marriage would be an unhappy one.

"I… Yes Theon, I'll ride with you."

His grin grew impossibly wide, and she thought she saw a flicker of what she could only think of as surprise in his eyes.

"Great, I'll tell the stablehands to saddle the horses. Stay here I'll bring them to you."

He left her, but a small bark alerted her to the fact that another creature wanted her attention.

"Where were you a moment ago huh?" She knelt down and stroked the fur between Tome's ears, "I could've used you as an excuse." She picked up her wolf, holding him against her chest tightly, watching as the other wolves tumbled out of the kitchen doorway, noses to the ground as they tried to sniff out their young masters. She held the wolf out so that she could look into his inquisitive blue eyes, "I'm going riding, and I'm afraid you can't come, you won't be able to keep up I fear," The wolf gave a small whine and she brought him back against her chest, "Don't worry it won't be for long, besides I can never last long in Theon's company, his smile unnerves me too much."

_I wonder if Theon grins like he does now when he beds a woman._

She placed Tome back on the ground where he scampered off as soon as his paws hit the dirt, heading back towards the kitchen. She turned to face the sound of a horses whinny and looked upon a chestnut coloured mare.

"Your steed my lady." He held out the reins to her and she accepted them, he turned from her and mounted his own horse, a bay roan, his treasured longbow on his back alongside a quiver filled with arrows.

_I do hope he's not looking to impress me by shooting rabbits._

She walked to the side of her horse and gripped the pommel of the saddle; she put her foot in the stirrup and heaved herself up and over the elegant animal. Her cloak splayed out behind her, covering the horses lower back. She tucked a strand of hair over her ear, she hadn't braided it today, and instead it hung like a sheet of water over her shoulders, soft brown waves which flowed down her back. As she righted herself and shifted her skirts so that she was more comfortable, Theon led his horse round so that he was facing her.

"Do you want to go through the forest or take the King's Road?"

The King's Road was safer, they could ride hard and fast without worrying about wherever their horses would break a leg or go lame over some uneven land. But she wanted to go through the forest; she wanted to breathe the deep heady scent of pine and oak. To watch Rabbits flit between trees and bushes.

_That is until Theon brings them down with an arrow or a fox catches them for his supper._

"The forest."

"Feeling adventurous are we?" He shot her another grin, filled with expectation and double meanings. She felt the urge to say 'just because I'm riding with you doesn't mean I'm going to bed you as well. Arrogant pig.'

She spurred her horse on, leaving the castle gate at a canter, the horses' hooves clacking against the smooth stone. The leather gloves she was wearing in order to keep her hands from getting frostbite were smooth against the skin of her hands. Her cloak sheltered her from the wintry winds and her feet were snug inside her leather boots. She felt oddly comforted as she rode through the town, Theon was at her side of course and that did put her at a slight unease, but the dull thrum of the horses' hooves and the chatter and sounds of the locals going about their daily business relaxed her and allowed her shoulders to loosen a little.

She had worried all through the night over what would be expected of her when the King and his followers came. Would she have to smile and be flirtatious? Was she to put herself on offer to any Lord or Knight who came looking, interested at having a Stark connection? She looked sideways at Theon, whose face had lost it's smile, instead concentration was etched onto his features.

_At least I know him. I can't say the same for these Lords and Knights from the south._

She slowed her horse to a trot as they neared a crowd of people. Some of them moved out of the way, bowing their heads as they realised who was riding the horse that was trying to get through. Some just stood there and she had to weave around them. She forgave them though, for they were too wrapped up in their own affairs and she knew what that was like.

When they were free from the town, they took a left from the King's Road crossing over towards the fringes of the Great Wood that surrounded Winterfell. It was then, when they were nearing the green canopy of trees that Theon decided to strike up a conversation.

"The King's coming to Winterfell, that's sure to be exciting. I hear he whores and drinks his way towards an early grave. Seems to me that's a fine way to go, with a woman atop you."

"You're not all together charming are you?" They picked their way through the undergrowth of the woods.

"I can be charming if you wish, my Lady." He was grinning again, she didn't have to look up in order to confirm it; she could feel it in his voice. "What do you think that Prince Joffrey's going to be like, I've heard tales of the little prick and they're not good."

She knew what he meant; word from the south was that Prince Joffrey expected life to be handed to him on a silver platter, which was going to be difficult in the North because northerners were hard people, used to working for what they want. Not snot nosed southerners who clicked their fingers and were waited upon by slaves and servants. This Prince Joffrey had already made a bad first impression, mainly because now Sansa had become obsessed with him. All she ever did now was say Joffrey this, Joffrey that. She had even gone as far to say that perhaps they will be betrothed, and then she would be Queen of Westeros. Her sister always had wild imaginings, and maybe this dream of hers, of being married to Prince Joffrey would just be another one. But still a chill had settled in the pit of her stomach.

"The rumours are that he is cocky and arrogant, but they are just rumours." She urged her horse to trot alongside Theon's own as the forest path had widened, "But he is heir to the Iron Throne and when he is here in Winterfell we must show him courtesy."

"Of course, we have to pay all southern bastards the respect that they deserve."

She could hear the animosity that Theon had for Southern folks in his voice. Separated by the Neck, those who dwelled in the southern most reaches of Westeros differed greatly from those who made their homes in the North. And in many cases they clashed. But Theon hailed from the Iron Islands, so Tarynn didn't fully understand his reasoning for the contempt that he held southerners in.

They rode on in silence; the only sound was the snapping of twigs and the rustling of leaves. She was left alone with her thoughts, and Theon began to scan the underbrush for any signs of wildlife, but so far there were evading him.

The thoughts that were primarily running through her head were who was the King going to bring with him? Obviously Queen Cersei, the children, perhaps members of the Kingsguard, some of their own servants but apart from that she didn't really see any point to bring _everyone _who held a job working for the royal family. Her other thought was whether or not she was going to be able to meet the Imp, the Queen's and Kingslayer's brother. Apparently he was well read and she wanted to see the fascination that hung over him like a cloying smell for herself.

She almost fell from her saddle when Theon stopped abruptly, holding up his hand as a signal for her to wait. She did, pulling on the reins so that her horse halted. Theon took his bow from his back and notched an arrow; his posture was slack and relaxed a great difference to how taut and rigid the string of his bow was. In a manner of seconds he had loosed an arrow and she heard something squeal. Theon leapt from his horse and dug around beneath a bush, slowly he pulled the limp body of a grey rabbit from beneath the green leaves and held it up proudly, the arrow he had shot had caught the rabbit in the chest.

Carefully he pulled the arrow out and wiped it on the fur of the recently deceased creature before balancing the body on his saddle and putting the arrow back in his quiver.

"Bet you haven't seen a marksman as good as me, look how clean that shot was." He came to stand beside her, he leaned against the neck of her horse, absently stroking a spot behind her steed's ear. "There was another reason why I asked you to ride with me," The smile vanished from his face and his eyes grew serious, she was staring flat into his face and she realised she had never properly looked at Theon with this much detail before. His skin was supposed to be a ruddy colour, or a light brown, which was a common trait of the Ironborn. But the years that he had dwelled in Winterfell had changed his pallor, he was quite pale. His nose was sharp, and his lips were thin and pressed together. His dark hair was long, but not as long as Robb's and he was tall, taller than her father.

"I was hoping that you would accept my offer of marriage." Her mind went blank so she just stared at him dumbly, he must've of noticed the expression on her face so he explained his proposition in more detail. "Between us, we could combine the Houses Greyjoy and Stark. Traces of ill will for what happened long ago will be banished. I have already discussed it with your father… It is the perfect union."

"What?" She regained her senses and her mind raced.

_Marriage? Married? To Theon Greyjoy? The whorer, the charmer, the idiot who's grin already annoys me. Having to share his bed, having to hold his children in my belly. Having to know that even if we were married I would never be enough for him for he loves his wenches too much. And father knew about this? Even Robb did, he had hinted that Theon was vying for my attention just this past day. Why didn't he warn me, or at least allow me to know Theon's intentions sooner, I would have been able to think it over._

"Theon I…" She didn't know how to respond. The man repulsed her. But a solid union between the Greyjoys and the Starks would most likely prove to be invaluable. She dared not accept, she felt in her heart that she should seek guidance from her father and the others of her family. Perhaps even ask why he kept such a secret from her. "I'm sorry Theon but I cannot give you an answer just now." She wheeled her horse around, and she couldn't help but notice the confused look of rejection that had crossed his face, Theon Greyjoy was not used to be rejected by women.

_Well he better get used to it._

She spurred her horse on, wishing now that she had decided to take the King's Road; she would have gotten away from Theon even quicker if she had. But even though it was slow going she didn't hear a second set of hooves picking its way across the forest floor, and for that she was grateful, and glad that Theon had decided to keep his distance.

When she reached the village it was quiet. The sun was already beginning to lower in the sky and she hadn't realised that she had been out for so long. When the portcullis which partitioned Winterfell Castle from the rest of the world loomed ahead she let out a breath she didn't realise that she had been holding.

_I can't believe that Theon just proposed to me, we have never been close; we have always harboured a sort of tolerable relationship. Never really talking, always tolerating one another. When did that change for him?_

When she reached the yard, a stableboy ran out to receive her horse, she dismounted and handed her reins to the lad who then led the horse away, she patted its rump gently before taking of her gloves and walking with sure steps she headed towards the heavy wooden door that led to her home.

When she was inside the warmth relieved her of the chill that had begun to set in her bones, she took a few furtive steps towards the dining hall but changed her mind, instead she went to her father's solar, which was the next likeliest place for the Lord of Winterfell to be. She took the steps two at a time, holding up her skirts so that she didn't fall over flat on her face. When she reached the floor that her father's solar was on she nodded to the guard who was stationed there and he knocked hard on the wood.

"Come in." Her father's voice boomed from inside the solar.

She thanked the guard before admitting herself into her father's sanctuary of sorts.

"Tarynn, I thought you were out riding with Theon."

"I was… Father he _proposed _to me."

Her father moved to his desk, occupying himself with some pieces of parchment that were obviously more important then his eldest daughter's future. "I was wondering when he would work up the courage to do that."

"You knew!"

"Of course I did, I wasn't even considering Theon as a suitable candidate but he gave me a very good case, ties between Greyjoy and Stark."

"So what? I'm just a bargaining piece now? Why didn't you tell me he was planning this?"

"He asked me very specifically not to. He wanted to impress you or show you what a good match for you he was."

"But he's not a good match. We don't even have the same interests. In fact I don't think he's ever read a book in his life, maybe he can't even read."

"Tarynn no-ones forcing you to accept his proposal, you mother and I…"

As if the Gods themselves had told her that something important was happening, her mother walked into the solar as well, "Ned I have some… Oh, Tarynn. I thought you were out riding with Theon?"

She repeated herself from earlier, "I was."

Catelyn looked from one face to another, "What's going on?"

"Theon proposed to Tarynn."

"He's done it then."

"You knew as well?"

"We all knew."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

Her mother sighed, "You don't have to accept him…"

"I've already said that."

"…But think it over, for Theon's sake."

_His sake?! What about mine? I don't want to be a wife. Not yet. And it's Theon._

She had two options, go with her head… Or go with her heart.

"Allow me until the King departs from Winterfell father, mother, please."

"That's not for another week Tarynn."

"Please!" She looked at her parents, shifting her gaze from one to the other. She finally saw the relent in her father's eyes.

"Fine, but at least make the effort to talk to Theon. Otherwise, with his proposal just left there with no answer, problems may arise."

She looked down at the floor, she originally had no intention of speaking to Theon ever again, and every intention to reject his proposal, but she would go through the stages in order to appease her parents, so mutely she nodded and her mother rushed forward, catching her in an embrace.

"Marriage is not always based on love, I... your father and I didn't meet until our wedding day, and we are perfectly happy despite all that has happened. What with the war and Jon Snow…" Her mother didn't elaborate on Jon but it lingered in the air a few seconds after she had said it, Eddard Stark had been unfaithful to Catelyn in the first legs of their marriage, and Jon Snow was the product of that unfaithfulness. "You may grow to love Theon, despite his flaws. Try to understand him better. Find common interests. You both like riding."

Despite her mother's attempt at reassurance Tarynn still did not feel ready to decide her future when she was only eighteen, but she resolved to at least make an effort, to see how long she could survive in Theon's company. But she knew that her heart had already decided.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh gosh well I truly don't know where to start! Thank you so much to Eidolon02 for your amazing review, it caused me to write this chapter and post it on the same day that the last one went up! Now a small disclaimer for this chapter. To be honest I don't know if Theon is entirely in character for this chapter but I just kind of wrote it without really thinking about it. And Theon becomes such a vicious man in 'A Clash of Kings' anyway and I thought that that type of behavior couldn't just pop up unannounced, he must of had the tendency to be slightly horrid before he took over Winterfell in the later book. Sorry about this large Author Note but I thought I should just clarify it. Thank you so much for the follows and the favourites. I'm going to see if I can update at least once a day for the next week, but I'm not keeping any promises!

So please keep on reviewing and doing what you're doing!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter Four.

Bran had been the person to see the first lines of the King's Party come up the King's Road. They were slow moving for amongst them was a sort of rolling house, which she had been told was where the Queen and her two youngest children; Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen resided throughout the long journey from King's Landing to Winterfell. The stream of horses and carts stretched far as they eye could see as she and Bran stood beside one another in one of the watchtowers that surrounded the walls of Winterfell, their wolves sat between them. This watchtower was quite close to the castle, so that they wouldn't be late for when the King actually arrived.

"Look that must be one of the Kingsguard, he's wearing a white cloak." Bran pointed at a speck of a man who was cresting one of the hills. Bran had sharper eyes then her, that was sure.

"Do you see the banners Bran?" She decided to test him, he knew of course the crowned stag of the Baratheons but strangely enough a yellow ripple of silk flew in the air as well, the banner of the Lannisters.

"Crowned Stag, Baratheons, and the yellow must be for the Queen's house, the Lannisters." She nodded, telling him silently that he was right, several moments passed as they continued to gaze out across the landscape, before Bran broke it with his curious questioning. "Theon told me that he wants to marry you Tarynn. Is it true? Did he ask you to be his wife?"

She looked down at her brother, whose eyes were still trailing the King's entourage. She had spoken to Theon earlier, courteously telling him that he wouldn't be getting an answer for his proposal until after the King had departed from Winterfell. He had asked her why and…

"_I just don't feel that I'm in the correct state of mind to give you an answer yet, when I've had a chance to mull it over, I will then give you your answer."_

"_But a whole week? You need a whole week to decide."_

"_Yes."_

"_Fine, I think I can handle the wait. Just remember that this union will benefit both of our houses, at least take that into consideration when you consider me."_

_I'm sure the whores will speed along the waiting for you._

She was brought back out of her memories when she realised that Bran was staring up at her, "Yes. Yes he did ask for my hand."

"What did you say?" He swung his leg over the window ledge, sitting as if he was astride a horse, his feet dangling free, his attentions back on the line of soldiers, knights and servants.

"I didn't, I asked for time in order to contemplate his offer."

"Oh… Mother says that marriage is tricky. Maybe once your married things will be different, Theon's nice, and he's always helping me with my bow."

"I'm thinking about it Bran."

"Sansa thinks you're lucky, that Theon is giving you so much attention, and she says that Theon is handsome… Look a raven!"

Bran slipped from off the window ledge but not towards her, rather towards the huge drop.

"Bran!"

His voice was muffled when he responded, "I'm climbing down Tarynn. I've never fallen once, I'm fine."

She peered over the edge of the window sill; she could just about see the top of Bran's head as he swung down and around the tower. Once he was out of her sight she too began to make her way to the solid ground of the earth. She ran down the stairs, which were old and rotting, and every step she took the whole structure would creak. There was a small bark and Tome sprinted down past her, his tongue lolling in his mouth, close behind was Bran's wolf, who Bran still had not given a name to.

When she reached the ground she darted through the trees, holding her skirts up so she did not trip. Bran was ahead of her, his laughing coming out between distorted breaths, his direwolf hot on his heels. They had grown larger over the past three days; Tome now came up to her knee. She ducked beneath a low hanging branch and burst into the yard, almost colliding with Jory Cassel but he managed to side step just in time. She caught Bran as he ran into a corner, not realising he had nowhere else to run. She picked him up from under the arms and whirled him in the air, just like she had done with Rickon. He giggled, gasping her name throughout.

"Tarynn!"

She stopped spinning and pulled him close, the bubbles of laughing subsiding as she hugged her little brother tightly. She kissed the top of his head, his smooth hair brushing against her lips. "Go tell Mother and Father that the King is near, an honour guard should ride out to meet him." She settled him back on the ground.

"I will," He ran towards the Castle, his companion following him all the way.

She smoothed out her skirts and moved her braid so that it fell to the middle of her back, and not on her shoulder. Once she had righted herself she looked up, Theon was lounging against a wooden column that held up the roof of the small smithy that was in the yard. He caught her eye and grinned but she ducked her head, not wanting him to start a conversation.

"Tarynn, have you seen Robb?" Her mother's voice crested the air and so she looked up, "I'm glad you chose that dress, it look's pretty on you."

Tarynn looked down at the dark blue fabric of her dress. She wore a slip of white fabric around her neck to keep it protected from the cold and her fur cloak on her shoulders. The dress itself was high necked, plain, with a few seams and darts to show off her curviness, the skirt fell to the floor, where it dragged in the dirt.

"Thank you Mother, and no I haven't. The last I saw him was when he and Jon were going to have their hair cut and beards shaved."

"Oh, in that case could you ask Theon? I have to prepare Bran, Arya and Rickon. To make sure they know where they're standing. It will be in age order by the way, but Robb is to stand next to your father, you are to be in between Robb and Sansa. Reason being is that Robb is to be Lord of Winterfell after your father so it is only fitting that he stands beside him. "

She nodded, and took her mother's hands in her own. "Stop being so flustered, everything will go smoothly."

"But that Lannister woman that Robert married…"

"She will just have to grow accustomed to the ways of the North, this is our land not hers. And we shouldn't have to put on such a show just to please her." She kissed her mother's cheek, "Don't worry, I'll find Robb."

She left her mother and warily approached Theon, who straightened from his slouched position when she neared him.

"Theon have you seen Robb? You were with him when he was having his hair cut yes?"

"He said something about going to the Godswood, do you wish me to accompany you?" His eyes glinted, as if daring her to turn him down and she was on the verge of doing just that, if her mother had not interrupted.

"Yes Theon, that's a very kind gesture. And if Tarynn went on her own she would only get side tracked by something. Wouldn't you?"

Tarynn gave her mother a pointed look, and sighed, "Yes."

Theon gestured towards the Godswood, "After you." His unnerving grin settled on his face once again. She walked at a quick pace, but Theon and his long legs had no trouble keeping up, "I was wondering what would be the name of our firstborn, I was thinking Balon after my father…"

She whirled on him, pointing her finger at his face, "You go too far Theon, constantly. I reject your marriage proposal. There I said it. Why don't you ask one of your whores to marry you instead? Marry twelve of them for all I care, but I will not be another notch on your bedpost even if I was your wife. Never ever!" The look on his face changed from confusion, to rejection, to anger all in a manner of seconds. His trademark grin turned into a snarl and he gripped her wrist so tightly she thought it might bruise, "Theon… please…"

"No one rejects me." He gripped harder and tears started to fill the corners of her eyes. "No one…"

"Theon? Tarynn? Is that you?"

What happened next passed in a blur, she heard Robb's voice calling out and Theon did too, he was still gripping her arm and she was struggling to break free, "Ro…" Theon's other hand clamped down on her mouth cutting off her shout. He twisted them around so that her back was against the tree and released the hold he had on her arm. He leaned in close; his hand still clamped over her mouth and looked into her eyes.

"No one rejects me." He grinned again before removing his hand from her face only to smother her scream with his mouth. She pushed against him, struggling against his hold but he was insistent, pushing her even further into the tree, his lips rough against her own. His tongue trying to force its way into her mouth, she pushed her lips together, denying him access. His hand rested on her waist, dragging her closer to him as he got into the kiss. His own eyes were closed, but Tarynn's were wide open. When she realised that she could in no way push Theon away she went rigid, unmoving as Theon continued forcibly kissing her. When he had finished, she remained quiet. Not wanting to provoke him into kissing her again.

"Now…" He placed a hand against the trunk of the tree, "I think you might want to rethink your decision." His voice was full of his original cockiness, no trace of anger remained. She didn't say a word.

She pushed past him, "Robb!" And disappeared between the trees, leaving her 'betrothed' leaning against the tree, grinning from ear to ear.

* * *

_If I had a knife I would slice that smile from off his face._

Dark thoughts coursed through her mind as she stood between Robb and Sansa, waiting for the King and his entourage to arrive in the yard.

_Who does he even think he is? That… bastard. Does he just think that I'll accept him? Without as much as a fight?_

She looked down at her wrist and at the pale skin which now had small bruises covering it from where Theon had gripped it. Somewhere behind her he stood, looking like the cat that got the cream, bragging to all his disgusting friends how he had finally got Tarynn Stark to kiss him. She felt the urge to turn round and punch him in his stupid smiling face.

A horse whinnied and the cart wheels grew louder. She pushed the thoughts aside; she would just have to avoid this intended union like it was a plague. Instead she focused her attention on the glamorous entrance of the King of Westeros, a couple of men wearing snow white cloaks rode in first, escorting a sort of house on wheels.

"That's Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer." Arya's thin voice drifted through the air.

A tall man with yellow hair was the first of the Southerners to ride into their home, he was handsome sure, but there was something generic about him, as if he was born to be a knight. He had the perfect look, the perfect amount of masculinity, he was rather too perfect.

Sansa gave a retort, "Shut up."

The King himself rode into the yard then, and by the Gods was he fat. She felt truly sorry for his horse. His hair was thick and black as a raven's feather but it had begun to grey slightly, which betrayed his age. He wore a crimson doublet, his house sigil of a crowned stag stitched on it. Behind him more guards spilled into the yard, along with a slender boy with golden hair.

_That must be Joffrey then._

She watched his eyes as they glanced over the line of Starks, she swore they lingered on Sansa for a moment longer, and her assumption was proven to be true when she glanced at Sansa's face. Robb must've seen it too, for when Tarynn looked at Robb they shared a knowing look.

Behind the golden boy came a man with a helmet shaped into that of a snarling hound on his head. It intrigued her.

"That's the hound," Came Arya's whisper, this time Sansa was too busy making moon shaped eyes at Joffrey to shut her sister up.

Tarynn's eyes lingered on the man that Arya had identified as the hound. He was large, but not in a fat way, but more of an imposing, strong, burly way. She watched as he reached up and yanked the snout of his helmet apart.

The King dismounted and as if everyone shared the same mental link, the entirety of the Stark household knelt, and bowed their heads, respectful of their King. Her interest in the Hound lost, and her curiosity of him had disappeared.

She heard the sound of heavy footsteps, and then a pause before there was a squeak of leather. Her father began to rise and she followed suit, realising that there was now a nice mud splatter all across the front of her dress from having to kneel in on the wet dirt. She would have to get the dress cleaned.

"Ned." The King stepped forward clapping her father on his arm, "How long has it been? And you never once visited me."

"You had the South to guard, I have the North." Her father grinned, his face lining even more.

"The King moved on first to her mother, "Cat." He kissed her cheek.

"You're Grace."

He ruffled Rickon's hair, who stood beside their mother. The King laughed, deep and jolly. He then moved onto the rest of the Stark children.

"And who is this?"

The King cast a searching look over Robb, "I'm Robb, your Grace."

"Heir to Winterfell. You have a determined look about you my lad." Robb nodded at the compliment but didn't say anything else.

_He's trying to look stronger and older than he is._

The King then moved onto her, as he stepped closer she could smell the stench of wine on him, "And you are?"

"Tarynn, your Grace."

"Tarynn… Ah, the bookworm, yes your father writes to me about your academic exploits. How many tongues do you speak?"

"Three."

"Two more than I do," He laughed before moving onto Sansa, Arya and Bran.

"My, you're a pretty one."

The King's jests with Bran about being a knight faded when the Queen stepped out of her moving home. She was tall, slender and very beautiful. She had bright gold hair that flowed over her back. With her were two small children, the Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen. Both had hair the colour of sunshine, they did not look a thing like the man who had sired them.

The Queen approached Eddard Stark and held out her hand expectantly, Ned took it, "My Lady." He kissed her hand and released it where she slid it beneath the fabric that she was using to keep her hands from becoming frostbitten.

"Take me to the tomb Ned; I want to pay my respects for the dead."

Queen Cersei's voice was soft and elegant, "We've been riding for a month my dear…"

The King ignored her, instead gesturing to Ned to lead him to where the remains of the past Starks were buried, "Ned."

When her father left the line of people who had amassed in front of Winterfell Castle the rest dispersed. Her mother led the Queen and her children away, most likely to show them their quarters, and Robb went to greet Prince Joffrey, not without asking herself to accompany him.

"Please Tarynn; I dare not ask Sansa for she will just stare at him with her mouth hanging open." She had consented, partly because she didn't want her brother to stick his foot in it, and partly because of the tall man who stood next to the King, the Hound. But then her brother called another name and her whole body froze, "Theon!"

Theon was almost to where they stood in the middle of the yard when Tarynn regained her composure, "Why did you call Theon over here?"

"He is the last remaining son of the Greyjoy line, and heir to the Iron Islands. He wanted to make a good impression on the Prince. That boy will be our King throughout our lifetimes Tarynn."

Robb had sound logic but her stomach knotted in discomfort, especially when Theon moved to stand beside her instead of beside Robb. Now, knowing what he was capable of doing, his very presence made her feel ill. They approached Joffrey and his Hound.

"Prince Joffrey, I am Robb Stark heir of Winterfell. Welcome to our home."

"Well met, your home…" The boy looked around, scorn of the place evident in his eyes, "Is satisfactory."

She could feel Robb bristling from the boy's statement and so she placed a hand on his arm, to calm him somewhat.

"How was your ride my Prince?" Theon's voice made her stomach churn.

"Uneventful… We poached some rabbits off your land," His comment was intended towards Robb, "I hope you don't mind. But then again why should you when it is _my_ father who owns all of Westeros." He turned his attention back to Theon, never once did his eyes linger on Tarynn. "And who are you again?"

"Theon Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands." Theon grinned.

"Iron Islands, did your brothers not get slain by Lord Eddard? Funny that you're warded with the man who killed your family." Theon looked down at the ground, before looking back up, the grin gone. Instead it was replaced with a stony look. "Hound, I must find my mother, I need to change before we feast." He directed his next sentence towards the three people who had come to greet him, "A good day to you."

The boy smirked, before walking off; his Dog trailing him.

"Theon are you alright? Don't listen to the little prick."

Theon looked at Robb, and then to Tarynn, she felt she should say something. She had never seen Theon so… taken a back, not in a rejection sort of way but in a more he's finally realised that his predicament, about living with the man who had ordered the deaths of his brothers, was ridiculous. He had just been outright insulted by the future King of Westeros. Her voice was soft, as she mumbled her next words.

"Yes, don't listen to him Theon."

This time when Theon leaned in towards her she didn't move out of the way, he had just been insulted by a thirteen year old boy, even though a small part of her relished that he had been knocked down a little bit she didn't really want to see Theon mocked for his situation. He didn't cause what happened he was a mere boy of ten when he had been taken from his home to be warded in Winterfell. When his lips touched her cheek, the violence that he had used against her earlier couldn't be found in the kiss that he left her with. He turned from them, storming off. She was left with her brother in the middle of the yard. Theon's kiss felt like it was tainting her, spreading through her body like poison. She brushed away the feeling of his kiss with her hand, a childish act.

_All the kindness in the world won't make me forgive him for the way he treated me in the Godswood. I should have told father what had transpired between us. _

But she hadn't, mainly because she was ashamed with how she was dealing with the situation. But she didn't know how to handle the prospect of marriage, or anything to do with it. It just wasn't for her.

"I feel sorry for Theon." Robb turned abruptly, not allowing her to speak. His words had a double meaning, she knew.

_Theon's his closest friend; he doesn't like the fact that I don't reciprocate his feelings, that I'm pushing him away. _

She looked after Robb as he walked away. He would soon be a man grown, how the years have flown by.

* * *

The feast was nearing; the majority of Winterfell would be drinking and eating within the castle walls. She had dressed appropriately for the evening, a tight fitting gown of silver, it had a sweetheart neckline and wrapped around her tightly. She had been forced into it be Gerta, and was also not allowed to wear her favourite boots. As she sat at her desk, Gerta fussing over her hair she gazed out of the window.

The sun had set and glowing torches had been lit to cast light across the yard, a couple of servants flittered back and forth, laden down with things for the feast that was close to commencing.

"A copper for your thoughts?" Gerta's soft voice lulled her out of her daydream, "You seem preoccupied."

"It's just…"

"You don't have to say it Tarynn. I know it's Theon who has put you in such a downcast mood, I saw you and him in the yard today, and he certainly is full of himself."

Her maid placed the brush on the table and begun braiding her hair, her fingers quick as she gently pulled the strands of hair into place, "I don't want to marry him Gerta."

"I know you don't, you always seem so… tense around him. You don't fully relax in his company, me and my Jed… Ah but that's a different relationship."

"There's no love between us, our marriage would be one for convenience. Just to strengthen ties between our houses. It's a diplomatic one." She turned in her chair to face her beloved friend, "You're so lucky you have Jed."

Gerta smiled softly, "You'll find the man of your dreams soon, and I'm sure."

"Yes, but in the meantime I have to rid myself of Theon."

"You're clever, you'll think of something."

There was a knock at the door, and Gerta went to answer it, it was her father.

"Gerta, would you leave us for a moment?"

"Of course my Lord." Gerta dipped her head and left the room, pulling the door shut.

Lord Stark stood in the middle of his oldest daughter's chamber, "The King has offered me the position of Hand of the King, as I'm sure you know."

She had heard, through her mother whilst she was helping her coax Rickon to have a bath. Her mother had spoken rather heatedly about it.

"I have heard father, are you going to accept?"

"I don't know how I could not, Robert has asked me to help and it has always been the duty of the Starks to help the King."

He moved to stand next to the other window in Tarynn's room, she stood, pushing her chair under her desk.

"When will you be leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. The Queen is anxious to return to King's Landing so they have shortened their stay considerably…" Her father directed his gaze at her, "Your sisters will be accompanying me, as will you."

Tarynn registered the words quickly, a smile gracing her features. "Truly father? I will be able to go to King's Landing?"

"Yes."

"But what of… Theon?"

"I know you have no wish to marry him, I am not going to force you into it, I don't want you to live your whole life unhappy with it. Consider this as an escape."

She rushed towards her father and he laughed, accepting her into his arms. "Thank you father, so much."

"You really dislike him that much?" He laughed again, "I must go, before your mother skins me alive for being late."

She nodded, and he moved to leave but a thought crossed her mind, "Father the news that you were going to give us a few days ago?"

"It no longer matters Tarynn, circumstances have changed and so now that news is obsolete…" He opened the door and called out to Tarynn's handmaid, "Gerta you can come back in now. I'll see you at the feast Tarynn."

When her father had left Tarynn stretched out her arms and laughed breathlessly.

"Good news?"

Before Tarynn could answer there was another knock at the door, Gerta opened it once more, revealing Maester Luwin.

"Tarynn I was wondering if you were kind enough to accompany me to the… Why you look like you've just been given a full library of books." Maester Luwin repeated what Gerta had said only moments before, "Good news?"

"Amazing news, I'm going to King's Landing."


	5. Chapter 5

Another thank you for the reviews, favourites, alerts and everything else. I was actually surprised that I managed to finish this chapter so quickly, but I just got so into it I just couldn't stop! I am getting better from my horrible bout of flu. I can now stand up and move around, which is of a great relief! But anyway, this chapter holds the first encounter between Sandor and Tarynn! So please review and favourite like you have been doing!

*Just a serious bit; in this chapter there are implications of a sexual nature, I thought I would just pre-warn you as I don't feel that this warrants the rating being turned up. It is rated T after all.*

Thanks!

Slightynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 5.

As they neared the Great Hall, rambunctious laughing could be heard, the clanking of tankards, the call for more ale, wine, food, even women. She clasped onto Maester Luwin's arm tightly, and he gave her arm a reassuring pat. She had always hated walking into a room filled with people, she felt like their eyes were constantly on her. Sansa was the one who thrived on attention.

When they reached one of the doors that led into the hall, Tarynn could see all of the King's men and Winterfell's sitting together, the animosity and difference between them gone. She entered, Maester Luwin reassuringly at her side. She looked up at the Dais. Lord Eddard Stark was sat in his chair, the ornate wooden one which had the carvings of wolves adorning it. Her mother sat to his left, and there was an empty chair to his right, beside the empty one sat Cersei.

_That empty chair must've been for the King, but where…"_

She spotted the Royal Highness with his face between the breasts of a serving woman, she felt slightly disgusted with the fact that such a pig had been made a King.

"It seems I must take my place at the dais," She removed her arm from Maester Luwin's own, he gave her a sympathetic look, "I know how you are with crowds. Do not think about it."

She nodded, "Thank you Maester Luwin, you are most kind."

"My girl, it is you who is kind to me."

The Maester entered the hall, leaving her to loiter in the doorway; she could see her place, between Bran and Arya. Her mother had originally wanted her to sit beside Theon, next to Robb, but she had persuaded her mother against it;

"_Who else is to watch Arya?"_

"_You need to allow yourself to be more comfortable in Theon's presence."_

"_Theon!" Rickon's voice was followed by a splash as he threw himself into the tub._

"_Mother not now."_

"_Fine, you can sit between Bran and Arya, you have to get used to him one day Tarynn."_

She thought back on the conversation, realising how wrong her mother had been_. _She didn't have to get used to Theon for now she was going to be going to King's Landing, and that meant never having to talk to Theon for the rest of her life. If she could help it.

_I still have to walk past him though._

She could see him now, his chair further out from the table, blocking her only way to get to her own seat. She took a deep breath, relaxed her shoulders and went to face her foe. When she reached him, she watched for a couple of seconds him picking a chicken apart with his quick nimble fingers, she coughed and he looked up, she motion with her hand that he should move in so she could pass him. He grinned, and Tarynn felt her cheeks turning red.

_Not here Theon, not in front of everyone._

He obviously couldn't read thoughts as he snatched her wrist, the same one which he had bruised earlier and pulled her down. His breath stank of wine and ale, his lips tasted of chicken and she could feel the bile rise up in her throat. She heard the scraping back of chairs, and then a random man shouting something vulgar.

"He's going to get laid tonight!" She heard the shuffle of feet and the man's laughter as he was removed from the hall.

She pulled away and raised her hand, about to slap Theon with all the force she could muster but she could feel her father's eyes, she looked up and saw her little brothers and sisters watching. In fact the whole hall had quietened down considerably.

_I mustn't act like a fool. I have to act appropriately. Don't slap him Tarynn, although he does deserve it._

Instead she brought her hand down gently, stroking his cheek which was smooth and devoid of any stubble, she bought her lips to his ear and whispered venomously.

"Don't kiss me again Theon. Don't forget I read a lot of books on anatomy, I know more ways to castrate a man then you know how to fuck a woman."

She squeezed pass him, and smiled hugely as if she was happy with Theon kissing her. Theon himself didn't move and after a few seconds the whole room roared again with laughter and music. She sat down between Arya and Bran.

"You kissed Theon?!" Arya stared at her, her mouth slightly open.

"You must like him to do that." Bran had rolled his eyes, and begun to pick at a bread roll.

She reached for a plum, its skin soft and fleshy, "Shows how much you two know about me," She elbowed Arya, who elbowed her back, laughing. Bran grinned around his bread roll, "Pass me that flagon of wine Arya." She poured herself a glass, something to help with the churning sensation that was in her stomach.

"Try the beef, it's delicious."

"I'll do just that Bran." She took a slice of beef and served herself some carrots and other vegetables, "Sansa could you pass me the gravy."

The 11 year old looked at her with resentment as she passed over the jug that held the gravy. Tarynn soon worked out why, Prince Joffrey sat at the other end of the table, Sansa was giggling with her friend Jeyne over the fact that the prince was giving her attention, and Tarynn had just distracted Sansa from whatever had been going on.

_Not all men are what they are appear to be Sansa._

"Would you like some gravy Arya?" The nine year old nodded, and so Tarynn poured a generous amount onto her dish, "Bran?" She held up the jug a little higher.

"No thanks."

She placed the jug back on the table, and began to cut her beef.

"Are you excited about going to King's Landing Tarynn, it's going to be such an adventure! All those knights and Tourneys, perhaps you could write a book. You can call it, 'The Starks and their Journey to King's Landing.'"

Bran leaned forward in his chair so that he could see Arya, "That's a boring name for a book, and too long, it needs to be shorter like 'The Starks and King's Landing.'"

"That's even worse…"

The pair squabbled about book titles, whilst Tarynn looked up. Theon had resumed eating and drinking, well more drinking than eating if she was to be honest. He was constantly knocking back whatever type of alcohol he could reach. Somewhere in the back of the hall a ruckus broke out which snapped her attention from Theon to whatever the fight that had broken out was about.

She watched as two soldiers fought over one of the Kitchen girls, she recognised her as Eve, a slender girl, no more than 16 with mousy brown hair. Her father's voice boomed out across the hall, "Separate them."

Immediately a man got up, he had lank black hair that covered one side of his face more than the other, as if it had been trained to be like that. His broad back was covered in a leather jerkin unlike the rest of the men in the hall who were wearing the best shirts and trousers that they owned. He grabbed one of the men and forcibly pushed him out of the hall; the man stumbled and swore so loudly that she almost covered Bran's ears. The other man who was party to the fight was pulled away by Jory.

_So the animosity between North and South hasn't fallen away yet then._

The man with the black hair returned to his seat then, which was at the end of one of the furthest tables. She strained her neck to see who he was sitting with but she could see no-one beside him or in front of him, he held a tankard in his hand and sat ignoring the world. She hadn't seen this man ride into Winterfell this morning.

_Perhaps he is just a foot soldier._

She went back to her food, the man and the fight pushed temporarily out of her mind as Arya began to chatter away, "Look there's the Imp, he's so small!"

Tarynn looked up and saw a short dwarf man waddle into the room, he had the same yellow hair as his siblings, a couple of men jeered at him and her eyes flickered between the Imp and the men who had been calling him names. The Imp said nothing, simply went to the one of the tables and sat beside his elder brother Jaime who clapped him on the back.

Tarynn wanted to meet him. They said that he read all night, and was so clever that even some of the Maesters struggled to keep up with his line of thought. She was interested in this short man; he seemed like an exciting character.

"Tarynn do you know how to speak Dothraki?"

"Dothraki Arya? Why no, that's the language of the savages, Maester Luwin says I'll have no need of it since hardly any Dothraki cross the sea. They are scared of anything they cannot conquer with their horses."

"Oh."

"Why do you ask?" Tarynn took another sip of wine, the rich taste trickled down her throat warming her insides.

"I was just curious; you speak so many different languages…"

"I only speak three; the common tongue, Free Cities Valyrian and Myrish."

"You seem to have learnt a lot more from when I last came to visit."

Tarynn recognised the voice, she stood, her chair scraping over the wood before she flung herself at the man who had spoken, "Uncle Benjen!"

There were other exclamations and she felt Bran joining the hug that she had inflicted on the elder man who was a member of the Night's Watch. She released him stepping back and taking Bran back with her so that she stood behind him with her hands on her little brother's shoulders. She watched as Robb moved over to greet their uncle as well.

"How have you been Uncle?"

"As well as you can be on the wall Robb, when are you going to visit me?" The older man laughed.

"Never." Eddard Stark clasped his brother's hand in his own. The two brothers moved away, their conversation turning private.

She sat back in her place and speared a potato with her fork, she bought it to her lips and delicately bit into it.

"It's strange seeing Uncle Benjen here," Bran reached for one of the flagons of water that had been laid out on the table for the younger children, "I thought he was supposed to remain at the wall constantly."

"Perhaps he didn't want to leave father all alone with the Southerners," Tarynn watched Arya suspiciously as she loaded up a spoon with bits of food; she squashed it all down with her fingers.

"Maybe Arya… Or maybe he's come looking for recruits."

"Who would ever want to go to the Wall?" Bran's voice was questioning but still dripped with innocence.

"Brave souls… well and criminals."

There was a shout and then a scream of rage, Tarynn glanced up at Sansa who now had food dripping off her pale cheek. Jeyne dabbed at the mess while Sansa shouted at Arya.

"Arya!"

Tarynn knew that an argument was going to break out so she stood and moved over to Sansa, taking over Jeyne's pitiful attempt at trying to wipe the food from Sansa's face. Robb, who had been laughing before, went over to Arya hoisted her up out of her chair before dropping her back down on the floor and pushed her gently out of the hall.

"Bedtime."

Sansa's eyes were filling up, so with a clean piece of fabric Tarynn wiped away the tears that were spilling over her cheeks, "Why does she always have to do this? Why can't she just act a Lady?"

Tarynn had no answer, Arya was enigma. Constantly trying to do her own thing, always wanting to escape the stereotype of how little girls and women were supposed to act. Arya Stark was constantly looking to disobey and make trouble, but that wasn't necessarily a fault, occasionally times called for someone to be a bit more daring, a bit more adventurous. But Arya did it constantly, much to the chagrin of Sansa, to whom most of the trouble was generally directed to.

"She just doesn't understand Sansa…"

"Neither do you," Sansa stood up abruptly, anger and malice at being embarrassed in front of Joffrey in her eyes and voice, "You don't understand! You don't get it!"

"Sansa Stark sit down!" Her mother's voice was raised; the girl lowered herself down back in her chair.

Tarynn shook her head; she had expected an outburst from Arya, not Sansa. She had always been much closer to Sansa. The red haired girl was now slumped sullenly at the table.

_I'm sure Joffrey finds you very attractive when you act like such a child._

She looked up at the Dais, silently asking her father permission to quit the Feast, he nodded, before answering a question that Uncle Benjen had put to him. She left the hall, her feet taking her as far away from the noise and mess. The guard opened the door and admitted her into the cool night air. Her cheeks which had been flushed from sitting in the hot hall began to cool as the icy wind stroked her skin. She let out a sigh, just standing there on the stone steps allowing the cold breeze to wash over her. When her heartbeat had slowed and she had regained some sort of composure, she took a step forward and then another. She moved towards the dummies were, stuffed with straw. One of the arms had been hacked off, the straw spilling from the sack like golden brown blood.

A blunt iron sword had been left on the floor in front of it; gingerly she bent down and picked it up. The metal was heavy in her hand as she tried to find a grip that was comfortable and wasn't likely to break her wrist or fingers when she swung the blade. She rose up the sword and brought it back down on the sack man, a small cloud of dust rose from where the blade had struck.

_For Theon._

She raised her sword up again and was about to swing it when a voice broke her concentration. "It's all in the wrist." She dropped the blade to the ground, when it hit the stone floor the metal rang, echoing around the deserted yard. Willing his voice to be a figment of her imagination, she turned slowly, her breath caught in her throat. She half wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, to block him out, but of course that wouldn't help her in any way.

He was there, standing in between the gap between two of the posts that supported the wooden roof of this section of the yard. His face loomed, casting shadows as the fire from one of the torches danced across his features, his thin lips stretched into a menacing grin, white teeth bared.

He stepped closer and she stepped back, "I'm not going to hurt you…" His voice was a murmur, "Not unless you make me." She wanted to scream but her mouth would not open, she watched him with wide eyes as he reached out to her. His hand crawled up her arm like a spider, he stepped even closer and she tried to move back but the sack dummy blocked her way. His grin grew impossibly wide.

"Nowhere to run now, no one to help you, why don't you just accept the fact that I'm what you want. That I'm the one who excites you." His mouth began to descend on hers and her thoughts crashed and rolled over the memories of the last time he kissed her. She turned her face to the side, Theon didn't like that response.

He snarled, "I'll have you even if you won't willingly give yourself to me." He moved impossibly close, pushing his entire body against hers. She felt something hard press into her thigh and that was when she began crying. A thin howl could faintly be heard. He wrenched back her head with one hand, and with the other he ripped the front of her dress, exposing her breasts. She pushed him away, clutching her dress together with one hand.

"Don't touch me!" Her voice came out in a half sob half scream, she saw fire in his eyes.

_He's going to rape me; Theon's truly going to rape me. I have to… Anything…_

She groped around; Theon's mouth was on her neck next, his tongue wet and sloppy against her skin. She could smell wine.

_He's drunk._

She clutched her dress tighter and closed her eyes, about to scream even louder when the feeling of Theon kissing her neck disappeared. She opened her eyes, only to see Theon being hauled out of the wooden shelter. She moved closer as whoever had stopped Theon from molesting her, drove a fist into his stomach. Theon doubled over, collapsing on the floor. He groaned in pain.

She was about to move towards him but stopped herself.

_He was going to rape me… He was going to force me into…_

She clasped her hands over her mouth, bile threatening to swim up her throat. She watched, her hands still over her mouth, as Theon struggled to his feet. He wobbled slightly and his words slurred.

"You're going to pay for that mongrel." He spat at the man who had punched him in the stomach. He was standing in the shadows so she couldn't fully see his face, but his voice…

"I'll just do it again."

It was raspy and deep, scratchy, filled with a thousand voices but combined into just one.

He was obviously not threatened by Theon for when the Ironborn ran towards him with a shout, he just picked him up and threw him over the fence into a trough filled with water. "Sober up."

Theon moaned, lifted his face out of the water and rolled onto his side. She moved to the gate, peering over to see if Theon was too badly hurt. He had just tried to hurt _her_, to take her maidenhood away, but she didn't want him to drown in a trough. Her mind bounced between getting him Maester Luwin and allowing the servants to find him when the feast ended. The man who had just saved her from Theon's intentions made the decision for her.

"Leave him, he's not going anywhere."

The man turned away then, his heavy footsteps ringing across the empty yard.

"Wait!" She ran after him, still clutching her ripped dress to her body, "I… I want to thank you."

He turned towards her and her breath caught in her throat.

_His face… _

The left side of his face consisted of twisted flesh, loose skin. Swirls were carved into his face; the bone that was his jaw was slightly exposed. His black hair that hung over this side of his face was just a poor attempt of trying to cover up the scars and burns. She wanted to look away but something compelled her to stare, her mouth slightly ajar.

"Having a good stare are you?" He gave out a short bark of a laugh, his voice filled with contempt and hints of anger. She closed her jaw with an audible snap.

_His voice is so… Violent. Who is he?_

She stepped forward, closer to him without quite realising. She put on her bravest voice but even then she could hear the cracks in it. She was still shaken over what had happened with Theon, "Who are you?"

The man shifted his weight, looking over towards the main door of Winterfell Castle, "Clegane, Sandor Clegane."

"Well Sandor, you have my thanks."

He scoffed, "Don't need any thanks," His eyes moved over to where Theon lay in one of the empty stables, "Watch yourself around him."

He went to move again but she had another question, and of course her inquisitive nature meant that she was going to ask it. "How did your…"

He laughed again, dark and menacing. "My burns?"

She nodded meekly, not trusting her voice.

_This man scares me, but not as much as Theon. He has an interesting nature. He doesn't seem at all friendly and yet he stopped Theon. He helped me._

Blue and grey connected as they stood in the yard. There was something in his grey eyes as he spoke, as if he was speaking to her on another level, as if his words meant something else. "When you play with fire, you get burned." He left her then with his cryptic answer, she gazed on as he walked away from her, he retrieved a leather skin from his hip and held it up, stopping on the stone steps to take a swig of whatever was inside it. He didn't look back at her.

She shivered, no longer finding the cold air soothing. Her hands were frozen in place as she clutched her ripped bodice together.

_I need to find Gerta. I need to tell her about what happened._

She looked back at where Theon had been left, sleeping off the effects of alcohol. She didn't want to make his life even more miserable.

_The Starks are all the family he has, I won't make him even more of an outsider, and I won't make him even more hated. I'm sure he will manage that on his own. I will tell Gerta but no-one else. This Sandor Clegane will be the only other person who knows and I will implore him not to tell anyone what transpired between me and Theon tomorrow._

Her mind set she knew what she had to do next. She needed to find Gerta.

* * *

She sat on the edge of her bed, Gerta floating around her, righting clothes, making sure that she was warm enough. Tarynn had told Gerta everything, what had happened during the feast, what had happened afterwards, even about Sandor Clegane. She had even asked to promise not to tell a word of what happened to anyone. The handmaid had protested at first, but Tarynn had eventually managed to make her vow silence.

They had burned the silver dress, which had been a shame because Tarynn had planned on taking it to King's Landing. But it was easier than explaining how her dress got ripped. They had come up with a white lie to explain its disappearance; which was that a large amount of red wine had been spilled over the front of it and that Gerta had tried every concoction possible in order to get rid of the stain but to no avail, they had then decided that it was completely ruined and had burned it. Gerta had however cut a few large squares out of it, claiming that she would make it into a quilt for her youngest child to keep him warm. Tarynn had whole heartedly agreed with that idea.

"So you're just going to do nothing?"

Tarynn sat at her table brushing her hair as Gerta turned down the bed covers.

"Yes."

A silence stretched between them before Gerta asked another probing question, "Do you know this Sandor Clegane? Is he a north man from the village? I have never heard of him."

"His voice…" Her mind rambled over the rough sound of his voice, "His accent was distinctively Southern." Truth be told she couldn't really tell, his voice had been a magnitude of different tones. But she had remembered after their conversation in the yard that he had been the man who had dragged the Southerner knight out of the feasting hall, making him part of the King's Entourage.

"I wonder why he wasn't in the hall joining his fellows in the feast."

Tarynn put her brush down on the table and went to her bed, crawling in beneath the covers, she sat upright, watching Gerta as she finished her duties, "I'm glad he wasn't to be honest."

"Yes, the Gods know what Theon would have done had this Ser not intervened…" She blew out the candle that stood on a small table beside the door, "Sleep well."

She closed the door and Tarynn was left alone, the only source of light came from the candle beside her. Its light flicked softly, and her eyes grew heavy. She moved further into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and rolled onto her side. She closed her eyes, the light from the candle still glowing.

* * *

_He scrabbled at the wooden thing that obstructed his way out, his finely tuned ears could hear her… them. Struggling and screaming, crying and pushing. He needed to reach her. He needed to save her. To protect her. He bayed to the moon, and one of the two legged creatures came out begging him to quiet, but he wasn't. He howled again and another of the two legged creature came to the place which he shared with his brothers and sisters. The creatures' voice was gruff and snarling. He scrabbled again at the wood wanting him to realise that she was in danger._

_The man smelled of something stale but moved towards the wood that he could not get through; he yanked it with ease and stood there. He tried to slip thorough the creature's legs but he wouldn't let him get pass. With just a grunt the two legged creature moved into the large space beyond the wooden obstruction, closing it off from the other side._

_He sat on his hind legs and once again howled, crying to the moon._

__Tarynn gasped as she woke.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi! I have been bombarded with so many favourites, alerts and reviews! It's amazing opening up your emails and seeing so may people take an interest in your story. So another thank you for that! I am so sorry that it has been about three days since my last update, but I have only just successfully beaten the Flu and then I had to start packing for returning home, as I spent Christmas with my family. But I guess this chapter's appearance has been long awaited.

Thank you for your continued support, and especially Eidolon02 again, your own little chapters always bring a smile to my face!

Review, alert, favourite, it definitely spurs me on!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 6.

The water ran in rivulets down her neck as she splashed water over her face. Breathing heavily she grasped the porcelain washbasin, her mind backtracking over the details of the nightmare she had just suffered. Screams still echoed in her head as she tried to piece it together. But as quickly as the nightmare had begun it disappeared, and no matter how much she strained she could only remember the haunting screams and the echoing howls. She reached for a square of clean cloth and rubbed her face dry, she stood there for a few seconds just holding the damp fabric to her face, inhaling deeply, and trying to calm down her frayed nerves. Her mind replayed the events of the previous evening; Theon's wet tongue slithering over her neck, his hands grasping her waist bruising her flesh. And then the man who had saved her, the man with a thousand voices, and eyes which told of horrors that she could not hope to understand.

She looked up, out the window to the midnight sky, it pulsated with stars, which glittered and shone from a thousand leagues above. She stood for a moment, watching as a black shadow slunk across the yard. She pushed away from the basin and turned to the floor length looking glass. Her cheeks were flushed with heat, and her hair was wild mess, her eyes seemed feverish and inhuman in her pale face.

There was a whirling sensation and she felt the need to vomit as thoughts of Theon's hardness pressing into her leg re-surfaced. She ran then to the wooden box with the hatch that when opened revealed a circular hole which had a metal bucket beneath it. She threw it open and retched, throwing up the contents of last night's meal. When she had finished she slumped to the ground, laying her face against the cool stone which felt good against her hot skin. She didn't know when she fell asleep again but when her heavy eyes flickered open she wasn't alone anymore.

Tome licked her face and whined, his warm breath cascading over her cheeks.

Her voice was croaky, "Tome." She reached out and with her fingertips stroked his smooth fur, the next voice that entered her ears made her sigh with great relief.

"Tome, I told you not to… My lady!" She felt smooth hands grasping her skin, and fingertips brushing over her forehead, "You have a fever. Wait here."

Tarynn turned her face away from the bright light that filled her room, her voice quiet as she answered her friend, "Trust me. I don't think I'll be going anywhere."

Her head throbbed without mercy and her insides wobbled and jolted with any minuscule movement. Tome settled down beside her, his fur warm against her aching stomach. She groaned and turned ever so slightly when she felt something wet and sticky against her bare legs. She felt down to where the stickiness was and gently touched it before raising her fingers up and through squinted eyes looked at whatever it was.

Blood.

_I'm just having my moonblood, that explains the blood. But it's never been able to make me feel so physically ill and tired before. _

When she heard soft footsteps running along the corridor she called out, "Gerta! Gerta is that you? I need a strip of clean cloth."

"Yes it's me… I thought that was one of the reasons why you were so ill but you've never suffered so badly before. Stay still my lady, I have roused Maester Luwin from his sleep and have encouraged someone to help lift you onto your bed…" Gerta wiped down Tarynn's face with a cool compress, and cleaned the blood from her fingers. "He should be here in a matter of seconds, meanwhile allow me to help you change out of your bedclothes, they're covered in blood."

Gerta helped Tarynn sit up, but as she did so a sharp jolt went through her stomach which caused Tarynn to scream out in pain. Tears pricked at her eyes as Gerta shrugged over a clean night shift and placed the strip of cloth between Tarynn's legs before fetching a pair of white under-dress garments to wear in order to keep the strip of cloth secure. Once they were done, Tarynn could hear footsteps again on the corridor, heavy ones but sure footed. Tarynn closed her eyes, "Gerta who did you summon in order to lift me onto my bed?"

"I don't know who he is my lady, he was the only one in the yard when I ran across it to fetch Maester Luwin. He was polishing some sort of helm… I didn't look at him too closely; I was in a rush to get to the Maester."

There was a knock at the door and Gerta sprang up to answer it, Tarynn swore she had heard Gerta gasp and mumble an apology but her mind wouldn't allow her to focus on any one thing, her head and vision swam and blurred through the pain of the headache.

The next feeling she felt was weightlessness and strong arms supporting her body, she wanted to open her eyes to see who was carrying her, but the blackness was soothing, and the light was not. Instead she listened to his heartbeat, which thudded beside her as he moved towards her bed. He deposited her on the soft covers, the heat that his body radiated disappeared leaving her chilled.

"Is that all?"

His voice reminded her of something, but she was tired, impossibly tired. And her head felt like the Stone Drum that had been built by Valyrian architects when Dragonstone had been erected. She felt the bed shift and then a wet nose pressing against her cheek.

_Tome. I feel so tired, the last few days have been exhausting and tomorrow I must ride south, I pray that I will be able to ride a horse. I would not feel comfortable sitting with the Queen and her children inside that confined space._

Tome whined again, as if he understood her thoughts. She felt comforted with her direwolf nestled beside her.

"Yes thank you, you may leave." The man who had lifted her departed from the room, the door was pulled brusquely shut, different to the gentle snap that it emitted whenever Gerta pulled it close, "Tarynn how do you feel." Gerta's cool hands ran over he forehead again, "You have a temperature."

The next person to enter her room didn't knock first, "Gerta, you roused me this morning because Lady Tarynn has taken ill?"

"Yes Maester, I found her on the floor beside the privy. She feels hot to touch and has started her moonblood today."

"Could it not just be that?"

"No, Tarynn never has her moodbloods very heavy, they are always light."

"I see."

The next hands on her forehead were soft, and cold. She let out a breath.

"She is definitely warm… Has she complained of anything?

"Yes, she said something about her stomach and she did mutter tired."

"I will give her some milk of the poppy to help her sleep; you are to rouse her mid afternoon however, so that we can check on how she is doing. She might just be suffering from sleep deprivation. Or perhaps the arrival of the King has worn her out. I don't think it is her moonblood… But these stomach aches?"

"Yes, but they're not in her abdomen."

"I will give her something for those too, assist me please. I need to administer the medicine."

* * *

The next time she woke it was to something licking her ear, and for half a second her mind panicked over what it could be. She sat upright and looked over to her left. Tome was lying on his back, his paws up in the air with his tongue lolling to the side. She stretched and yawned, looking around her room. The sun was at its highest point in the sky and someone had left a window open which she had been sure had been closed the night before. She moved slightly, shifting backwards so her back rested against the wood of her bed. She ran her fingers over Tome's belly, gently tickling him when the door opened.

She hadn't been expecting her mother to come visit her in her chambers but sure enough, the woman who had bought her into the world stood in her doorway.

"Darling, I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner but Maester Luwin was positive that the milk of the poppy would make you sleep for a while. I didn't want to disturb your rest. How are you feeling?"

Her mother sat down on the edge of her bed and reached out touching her forehead, "I didn't realise that I had been ill mother."

"You don't remember this morning? Gerta found you lying on the floor, the contents of your stomach in the privy. You've started your moon cycle as well."

_So that's the thing between my legs._

Tarynn moaned, "Trust me to get it right before we're supposed to ride."

"Don't worry; I don't think you'll have to ride in that wagon with the Queen and her… offspring. Gerta has assured me that she will pack lots of cloth so that you can double them up. That way you will be able to ride a horse."

"Good. So I was really that sick?"

"Apparently so. You couldn't even move from what Gerta told me, she had to ask one of the southern soldiers to lift you into your bed."

_A southern soldier?_

"Who."

"I believe your sister calls him the Hound. I don't know his actual name, he follows Prince Joffrey around so that no harm befalls him."

"I see."

_I don't feel terribly comfortable with the knowledge that a stranger has been in my chambers._

"Are you well enough to get up?"

She tested her footing, swinging her legs over the side of her bed and standing up, taking a few tentative steps forward before walking to her wardrobe.

"Yes, I feel fine. Whatever Maester Luwin gave me seems to have helped whatever illness I was suffering from. I should get dressed." She opened her wardrobe and started rummaging through her dresses.

"Well I shall leave you to it. Maester Luwin was going to come up and check on you by I told him that I would do it, when you have finished dressing go down and thank him. He says that he has a few things for you that might come in handy when you get to King's Landing." Tarynn's mother stood up from where she sat on the edge of Tarynn's bed, and moved towards her eldest daughter, gently kissing her on the cheek, "Now I must go and entertain the Queen. Your father and the King have gone out hunting with Robb, Theon and the rest... By the way I saw that very public display of affection between you and Theon last night."

Tarynn didn't look at her when she answered, pretending to be busy with some buttons on one of her dresses, "You did?"

"Yes the whole hall did. You're warming to him, I can tell."

_Well that's actually the whole opposite mother, but I can't blame you for not seeing through the supposed romantic notions. It's me who wants to keep what Theon tried to do to me a secret._

"Well we shall see how it goes."

"But now with you going off to King's Landing… I was planning on you having an autumn wedding, you know around the time of Sansa's birthday."

Tarynn felt like she could snap, but she suppressed her anger, instead speaking through gritted teeth, "We shall see, perhaps I will get a different offer from another Lord when I go to King's Landing."

"Yes maybe…" Her mother touched her arm lightly, "Well I shall see you later on today."

Her mother left her room and Tarynn resumed looking through her wardrobe for a dress to wear for the day, even though she had slept through half of it. She pulled out a grey dress, to match her mood.

She changed the strip between her legs and pulled on her undergarments before putting her dress on. Her fingers ghosting over the buttons when she felt like she was being watched, she looked up and sure enough Tome was perched on the end of her bed, his surreal blue eyes gazing at her. She moved all her hair away from the nape of her neck before attacking it with her hairbrush. Once it was smoothed out she went to braid it but then decided against it. Instead she let it hang loose. With a snap of her fingers, Tome leapt from her bed and together they left her room

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she thought she saw Sansa and Jeyne pass through to the practice room, but when she craned her neck to look around the banister she couldn't see anything, and the hallway was deserted. She turned the collar of her cloak up and marched out into the icy winds of the north.

Today was perceptibly colder then the day before, everyone who was in the yard wore their thickest coats and warmest boots. Even the soldiers the King had brought with him from the south were wearing layers upon layers of clothes just to keep the edge off. She crossed the yard, intent on reaching the rookery in order to thank Maester Luwin for his help when she had been taken by a mysterious illness earlier this morning. But when she reached the door, her hand grasping the smooth cast iron ring to open it, a voice interrupted her actions.

"You're Tarynn are you not, the eldest of the Stark brood? I'm sorry but I'm a little lost, could you tell me where I could find the Maester?"

She turned to her left and finding no one beside her looked down just out of instinct when she realised that there was someone beside her. The youngest Lannister had been cursed with the physique of a dwarf. He had a curling smile, yellow hair which was more akin to straw than the flowing locks that his siblings had. His eyes were mismatched and he only just came to her elbow.

"Yes I'm down here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to seem rude." She bowed her head to him slightly, "I hope you're finding Winterfell comfortable."

"Comfortable? Good Gods no! Twice I had almost frozen in my bedchambers. But the people… Ah now they're an interesting sort. You northerners always act so rough and tough. I feel quite jealous. But still. The Maester, do you know where I can find him?"

He spoke fast; his tone was tinged with subtle hints of sarcasm and believing that he was better than those around him.

"I was just about to visit him myself, if you wish to accompany me."

"How gracious of you, I would, I need something for these twisted legs of mine."

She turned the handle, opening the door, Tyrion beckoned her to enter first and so she did. She stepped into the gloom of the Maester's room.

Maester Luwin had always been untidy, and even though they had sorted out his belongings just a few days past, the room beneath the rookery was already a gigantic mess. She picked past the jars, books and papers that were flung everywhere around the room, in order to reach the Maester who was sitting at his stool, he was writing a letter of some sort. She stood in front of his desk and coughed. He looked up, his eyes shining in the dark.

"Tarynn I didn't realise you were up. Forgive me I was going to check on you but your mother went in my stead."

"It's quite alright. She said that you wanted to see me?" She bent down slightly to see inside a jar that was balancing precariously on the edge of Maester Luwin's desk, it's contents were shrouded in a thick green fog but it was clear to say that it was some sort of narcotic in there.

"Yes I thought I would give you your vials today, I have a selection of other things that I wanted to pass on to you also… I see we are not alone Tarynn, how are you my Lord."

"I am not a Lord, my father, now he is a Lord. And I'm not terribly well, I was hoping you could give me some milk of the poppy, to help me sleep sweeter."

"Yes… I can give you enough for tonight and the day after but I'm afraid that Tarynn is my sole responsibility and I need the milk of the poppy to make her own sleeping draughts. I hope you forgive me…"

"Yes, yes. Two good nights sleep will do me fine. Do you mind if I look at your wonderful collection of books?"

"No , not all, please be my guest."

Luwin bustled over getting two vials worth of milk of the poppy. The milky white substance was able to put even the lightest sleeper to sleep, which is why Tarynn had to take it regularly, mixed with other things as well, so that she wasn't kept awake by her recurring nightmares. She thought back over yesterday, how Gerta had told her that she was out of her sleeping draught and she had shrugged it off;

"_I'm afraid that you had the last dose last night. I can ask Maester Luwin to mix some more…"_

"_No, it's too late now Gerta, I'm exhausted anyway, I'm sure I'll sleep soundly enough."_

"_As you wish."_

She now realised that she should have sent Gerta to Maester Luwin in order to get her a vial, whatever her nightmare had been of last night it had obviously troubled her.

"Tarynn I have concocted enough vials to see you through the month's ride to King's Landing. I have also sent by raven to the Maester at King's Landing a list with the ingredients needed for your draught."

"Who is the Maester at King's Landing?"

"Pycelle, good fellow but even older than me." The Maester chuckled and lifted his heavy sleeves, "Oh I almost forgot," His hand delved into his right sleeve, his brow furrowed and when he couldn't find what he was searching for he searched through the other one. "Ah, here we are."

Out of his sleeve he drew out a long chain, fixed to the end of the change was an oval shaped locket, delicately moulded with the outline of a tree with twisting branches crafted upon it. She accepted it from the Maester.

"Go on, open it."

She undid the clasp and the locket swung open, the words were in a tongue she did not understand. The lines that made up the foreign language were elegant and regal looking, she looked up. "What does it mean?"

"My child," Maester Luwin stepped forwarded and clasped her hands with his, "It is written in High Valyrian and says 'what we leave isn't forgotten, but misplaced'. You travel south, leaving all those who love you behind, but we are not forgotten, merely misplaced out of your life for the time being."

Tears began to well in her eyes, her voice shook when she answered. "Thank you, so much Maester Luwin."

She hugged the old man, thinking back over everything he had done for her.

_He taught me my first runes, he told me the difference in scents and which were the smell of poisons, he encourage my books and readings. He helped me know all that I know now._

_I'm going to miss him._

"We all chipped in, Gerta and I, I think Ser Rodrik flipped a coin into the pot as well. The carpenter did, some of the servant girls. In fact I think everyone contributed a little. You do not realise how many people love you Tarynn. You would have made an excellent Lady of Winterfell, of that I am sure. But now fate decrees that you leave us."

She stepped away, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand, laughing nervously. She undid the clasp of the locket and put it round her neck, before closing it with a faint snap. The locket sat a good inch and a half below where her collarbones met. It was a perfect fit.

"Why did you decide to give it to me today?"

The Maester shrugged and shuffled some papers on his desk, "It was likely to be very busy tomorrow morning, I would not have had the chance to speak to you; besides Gerta said that you would want to wear it when you ride."

"She knows me well. Thank you again," She touched it gently, the cold dark grey metal cool on her fingertips, "It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it. Now would you mind helping me with…"

There was a shout from the yard, loud, booming. The Imp looked up from the book he held in his hands and Maester Luwin looked at her briefly before pushing past to the door that led out into the yard, Tarynn was close behind.

The difference in the light between the inside of the Maester's room and the outside world caused her to be blinded for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted to the glare. When she had regained her senses she ran towards Jon Snow who had just reached the yard, she grasped the boy by the arm.

"Jon! Jon! What is it? Are you hurt?"

He was breathless, "No, no not me. It's… It's Bran. Beside the tower he has fallen."

Tarynn's response was sharp and held no nonsense, "Go tell father." The boy ran off, and she turned to the Maester who was approaching, "Maester we need to get to the tower, Bran has fallen, I don't know how hurt he is."

"I will fetch the medicines. Go to the tower."

She ran then, her feet swift as she charged through the woods.

_Just yesterday Bran and I had run this way, laughing and giggling. He had told me that he never fell._

When she reached the tower a small circle had gathered around what she presumed to be Bran. It consisted of the Lannister twins, and Joffrey. His hound was sure to be lurking nearby but she didn't even stop to consider him. She ran up to the group, the Kingslayer held out his arm as if to stop her but she pushed it away, falling on her knees beside Bran's limp body. She sobbed as she gazed over his broken body.

"Tarynn…" Across from her Robb crouched, his blue eyes full of sorrow.

"Did you send Jon?"

"Yes, I dared not leave his side."

"Who found him?"

"It was I, my lady." The Kingslayer stepped forward slightly, moving his hand away from the Queen's shoulder.

Tarynn was angry, she stood and whirled on him, "And do you not think to get help immediately?!"

"Do not raise your voice to a member of the Kinsguard child!"

Her hand itched to slap the beautiful Queen but she repressed it. "I am not a child, he however," She gestured to her brother, "who has fallen from a tower, who has sustained serious injuries he is! And you waited for Robb to come along?! You could've sent for help sooner!"

She turned her gaze back to Bran, "What's wrong? Robb? Tarynn? What… By the Gods!" Her father and Jon Snow entered the clearing then, followed closely by her mother and Maester Luwin.

"Bran, my poor sweet boy." Her mother went to touch Bran but her father stopped her.

"No, my dearest, don't touch him, Luwin?"

Tarynn turned from her brother's body and once against barged past Jaime Lannister. He didn't look up; his eyes were rooted to the ground. But his twin, she did. Her green eyes were alight with flames and they were directed straight at her. She dropped the contact and moved away to the shade of the trees. She hadn't realised it in her panic and shock but Theon had also been among the group that had been standing by Bran. He moved closer to her, as if he was going to say something, but she shook her head. The time for apologies was over.

He stopped, dropped his hand and moved away from her. The group had converged around Bran so that she couldn't see him anymore. She struggled to rein in her tears.

"He is strong, he won't die."

That voice again, the voice from last night, the voice from this morning. She turned her head to where the voice had floated from and her eyes rested on a tall man, standing in the shadows that the trees cast.

"Sandor?" Her mind clicked it then, he was there because of Joffrey, the whiny prince who thought he owned the world. He had been there this morning when Gerta went for help. He was… "The Hound."

It wasn't a statement it was a fact. She felt disgust towards him.

_How could a grown man be that spiteful brat's lackey? How could he allow him to degrade him so much? _

"Aye the Hound," His voice had flickered to a tone of regret and self condemnation,"your brother won't die Wolf."

"Wolf?"

"Yes, Wolf, uncontrollable, fierce-some. But cunning, smart, and patient."

She watched him as he took a swig from the skin on his hip, "What's in it?"

"Wine. It dulls the pain, makes you forget the bad things." He chuckled, his deep wheezing laugh. "Here." He tossed the skin at her, but her fingers slipped over the smooth leather, almost dropping it on the ground if she hadn't grasped the leather cord which it hung from. "A clumsy Wolf. That's new."

She undid the stopper, and took a drink. It was rich, sweet and extremely strong but it soothed her thoughts, stopped them from ricocheting around her head. She passed the skin back, not trusting herself to toss it.

"Thank you."

Their fingertips touched as the wine-skin exchanged hands.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm sorry that I haven't updated sooner but I'm just settling back into the hustle and bustle of higher education and received a chunk of essays to sift through so that took up most of my time. I have been writing this story whenever I got a small break from the craziness of student life and here it is! Presented to you in the form of a link in your emails. Thank you for the follows, 25 is quite a startling amount, and for the reviews! They always brighten up my day. I hope the rest of your week goes well and the next chapter shall be delivered to you in a relatively short amount of time. So please review, favourite, and story alert!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 7.

The water had cooled down considerably by the time she had worked up the courage to get into the bath. She hated boiling hot water, it made her uncomfortable. She always felt that she was being cooked inside out whenever she had boiling hot bath. Which is why she had told Gerta to leave it to cool, Tarynn hated the heat, which her mother never failed to bring up in her reasons why Tarynn shouldn't go to King's Landing… She didn't blame her though. Her mother was near inconsolable when they had found Bran lying broken near a tower, having fallen from it.

_But Bran never falls. He doesn't even slip. It just doesn't add up._

She lifted her arm and inspected the dark bruise that covered her wrist; it was the gift that Theon had left her. She could still feel his tight grip even now, as she laid in the metal tub. The warm water washing over her skin, stripping her off all the dirt and grime that had accumulated on her body. She closed her eyes, and replayed the events of the afternoon in her head;

_Flashback._

"I don't understand Bran never falls, he never…"

"What's done is done Cat, we cannot hope to uncover the truth right this second, Maester is there something you can do?"

Tarynn moved forward, closer to her family, closer to her little brother who laid unconscious on the snow covered ground. And away from the Hound and his electrifying touch. When she had passed the skin back their fingers had met, and it had burned, his skin had been feverishly hot, whilst hers as always had been icy cold. The contrast had been so strange, she had snapped her hand back, away from his touch and looked up. But he had turned away.

When she had gotten closer to her parents who both knelt upon the wet ground she touched her father lightly on the shoulder, "His legs are broken, see how they're bent at odd angles." She had pointed it out and Maester Luwin nodded in agreement.

"Yes. He has definitely broken his legs but he's still breathing… His neck didn't break."

There was an audible sigh which rippled through the group. She bent down beside the Maester, she had studied Biology and the structures of bones, she could help.

"We need to keep his back straight, perhaps see if the bones can be reset? He would need to stay in bed for a good few months."

"Yes, yes. If we straighten him out here and then see if we can lift him up on to a…"

"Bed… that thin thing that we used when Arya had dashed her head on a rock, when she was too dizzy to walk."

"Excellent… My Lord, please could you send word to Hodor, he is a strong man and would be able to carry Bran up to his chambers with ease."

"It's okay I'll go Maester." She stood and brushed down her skirts, she gave her father a reassuring look and he nodded in return, "I'll get a blanket as well."

She ran through the trees, ran past the Hound where he stood lent against a tree. She could feel his eyes on her but she paid him no mind. She brushed aside leaves and ducked beneath low branches before bursting out into the yard shouting, "Hodor! Hodor!"

The half giant man came rambling out of the stables, his giant hand waved at her and she ran up to him, grasping on one of his arms with both hands. "Hodor Bran has fallen we need to get that lift bed, come help me."

"Hodor."

They went to the store room, where all the barrels and miscellaneous stuff was kept. Hodor rooted around, before grunting once and pulling out the lightweight bed. It was literally two sticks on either side of a stretched out piece of thick canvas. It was flexible; the sticks bent without breaking and were strong enough to hold an average sized person easily.

"Hodor." He shook the bed, ridding it off cobwebs.

"Great, I need to get a blanket…" She turned towards the open door, at all the people milling around the yard. At the King's men who just lounged against the stone structures. She wanted to scream at them, to tell them that Bran Stark, the son of the Lord of Winterfell had just fallen from a tower. But instead they just stood there, doing nothing, protecting no-one.

_Their soldiers! Knights! They're supposed to protect people. If one of them had been stationed near the tower… Perhaps Bran wouldn't have tried to climb it. Perhaps Bran wouldn't have fallen._

Her attention snapped to a tall man in gilded armour, a white cloak draped over his broad shoulders.

_A knight, a member of the King's Guard. And all he can do is stand there looking pretty._

"Hodor I need to fetch a blanket, wait here until I return."

She ran to her chambers, planning on taking the blanket that covered her own bed to give to Bran to keep him warm. As she raced up the stairs she felt a hatred stir in her heart.

_Knights, what a mockery. Jaime Lannister's a knight and he did nothing to help Bran._

She threw her door open and ripped the blanket from her bed before rushing back down the stairs, she almost tripped over the trailing fabric but managed to keep her balance by some act of the Gods. She ran into the blinding daylight and didn't stop for Hodor, instead she called out to him; "Hodor, quickly!"

She heard his gentle plodding as she ran back through the woods, the blanket for Bran bundled against her chest. When she had reached the clearing again, the people standing around Bran had changed. Joffrey, the Queen and Jaime were not there, neither was Theon. For that she was truly grateful. However King Robert Baratheon stood beside her father, his large hand on one of her father's broad shoulders. They were all watching Maester Luwin set one of Bran's legs.

She burst into the group, stopping just short of Maester Luwin's stooped back, her voice was breathless, "I have the blanket, and Hodor has brought the bed."

"Hodor."

Maester Luwin was busy setting the bone in Bran's leg, so her father answered, "Good. Hodor be a good lad and set it down there." Her father pointed at an empty spot on the other side of Bran. She handed the blanket to her mother, who accepted it with blank, unseeing eyes. Catelyn Stark clutched the soft blanket to her chest.

Tarynn crossed to the other side, standing next to Bran's feet and directly opposite the King. There was a sickening crunch and Maester Luwin stood.

"There, now all we have to do is lift him onto that bed and take him to his chambers. Hopefully his legs will heal but we have to see. Hodor if you would?"

Hodor bent down and surprisingly gentle for a half giant lifted Bran carefully onto the bed. He then grasped one end whilst Robb went to get the other.

"No Robb, I'll do it."

Ned Stark gently pushed his eldest son aside, and bent down to grasp the wooden handles. On a count of three they lifted it up. Bran wobbled gently on the flexible bed, and Catelyn placed the blanket over his mangled legs.

In a weird sort of procession the rest of the Stark family and the King walked back towards the Castle, Bran gently swaying on the rickety cot. Tarynn stayed behind, next to the tower that only yesterday she and Bran had been standing in. She knelt and touched the pressed snow which bared the imprint of Bran's body.

_If Bran had fallen from the top he would have shattered every bone in his body, he wouldn't have broken his legs if he had fallen from near the bottom._

She moved towards the tower, her fingers feeling over the smooth stones, possibilities and scenarios of how Bran had fallen running through her head. She turned, and went back into the woods, away from the tower, away from the imprint of Bran in the snow. She passed the tree which the Hound had lent against and quietly ran her fingers over the rough bark before turning away from that too, and the strange feelings that had begun to tug at her heart.

_End of flashback._

Tarynn gasped before submerging herself in the water, she stayed underwater for a few seconds before resurfacing. The warm water which was now beginning to turn cold splashing over the sides. She waited, allowing her heartbeat to stop racing for Gerta to return with the oils that they were going to use to wash her hair.

She didn't have to wait long, sure enough Gerta turned up, her arms full of different lotions and bottles. She dumped them on the floor beside the tub before pouring a generous amount of oil on her hand and reaching for Tarynn's long dark brown hair. Tarynn closed her eyes.

"Excited my Lady?"

Tarynn smiled, not opening her eyes as she answered her trusted friend and loyal companion, "Yes, it's not everyday your allowed to ride south, I have a feeling that it's going to be a wonderful adventure Gerta."

"I'm sure it will be," There was a pause and then Gerta poured water over Tarynn's hair, the water sluiced down her face and over her shoulders, "Hopefully your hair will be dried before you set off."

"Father says we're not leaving until after breakfast, the King wants a mighty last feast in the walls of Winterfell apparently. So if I sit in front of the fire for a little while… I'm sure it will be dry enough by then."

Gerta massaged Tarynn's scalp before applying more oils to her hair. The brief silence was broken by the squawk of a crow as it flew past the window.

"I wonder who that was from."

"Maybe it was someone wishing Bran better… How is he?"

Tarynn had spent most of the evening before keeping a vigil over Bran, he had not woken, and even still he slept like a peaceful babe. They won't truly know his condition until he wakes, and by then Tarynn would be in a different part of the country.

"Maester Luwin says that he is not likely to… Die. Which is of a great relief. Mother is with him constantly and at the moment he shows no signs of worsening or getting better. He's still somewhere in the middle…" She drifted off, not finishing her sentence lest she curse it and Bran would never get better. "How's Jed? I heard he had an accident with one of the cooking fires in the kitchens."

"Yes… He has burnt his hand horribly but Lord Stark had Maester Luwin send us some ointments and the like, he's at home now with the boys. Normally my Mother looks after them whilst we're both at work… It's nice for Jed to spend some time with them, he hardly ever sees them."

"How old are they now?"

"Theodore is seven, same age as Bran poor lad, and Saleb is five."

"You were quite young when you had Theo."

"Younger then you… But I've only slept with Jed, and I will only ever have his children. There is no one else who can compare with my Jed."

Tarynn felt a slight bit of envy for her friend; she had a relationship based on love. Tarynn was going to have a relationship based on politics and strengthening family ties.

"Well wish him better from me."

"I will," Gerta poured another load of water over Tarynn's head, washing off the suds from her hair. "Please stand my Lady."

Tarynn did, naked as the first day she came into the world, her stomach protruded slightly, and her breasts dropped just a little bit, she was in no way bony like her mother had described her Aunt Lysa, but she wasn't extremely fat like Fat Walda. She was in the middle, an average size.

"_A perfect size, my darling."_

"_Really mother?" A 16 year old Tarynn pouted at the mirror, gazing over her reflection._

"_Yes… But then again I'm biased aren't I?"_

The memory faded and Tarynn stepped out of the tub. Luckily she had been cured of the pimples that had covered her back, and the select few that had graced her face. She had gone through that awkward transition from child to middling to adult, and even though she was by no means perfect, and amazingly beautiful, she wasn't ugly either. She bore great resemblance to her little sister Arya, but she had a couple more Tully features and didn't have a long face which was dominant in Starks. With her dark waist length brown hair and her light blue eyes. Creamy white skin. Even though there were marks on her legs where her skin had stretched as she was growing, she was considered to be quite pretty.

But she was a human being, and if any human being was perfect then there was something strange going on. At least that's what old Nan used to tell her.

"You're thinking about how you look again aren't you, I can tell." Gerta pressed her finger against the skin between Tarynn's eyebrows. "You furrow your brows whenever you think, did you know that?"

"No I didn't." She dried with a piece of fabric handed to her by Gerta.

"Looks are not everything my Lady, personality, now that's the key. Don't go through life obsessing over how you look. Leave little Lady Sansa to fuss about how she looks. Happiness will find you, no matter how long it takes."

Tarynn pulled on a fresh white slip and turned to her dearest friend, "Oh Gerta, what am I going to do without you in King's Landing."

"You'll have another maid I'm sure… Just no one as caring and amazing as me. If I do say so myself."

Tarynn laughed and sat down cross legged on the woven rug that was situated in front of the roaring fireplace, "No, you're the best maid anyone could have ever asked for."

"I'm glad you think that my Lady."

Gerta laid out Tarynn's most comfortable dress out, it was deep green, the colour of the darkest green leaves, her cloak, gloves and her favourite pair of boots. The rest of her clothes had been packed in the wooden trunk that she was taking with her when she went south. It was slightly dismal when she considered how her whole life had just been packed away in a single trunk. But hopefully, when she returned to Winterfell she would have another trunk filled to the brim with different tomes, parchments and quills. She grew quietly excited over the possibility of bringing back stacks more books when another thought of a different kind of Tome ran across her mind.

"Gerta," Gerta came and stood in front of her, she was currently folding up the wet fabric that Tarynn had used to dry herself with, "Where's Tome, he was here with me last night."

"Oh, well as soon as I opened the door, he just sprinted out. Most likely to do his business."

"I see."

Gerta went back to folding up the fabric, and Tarynn turned to the fire that was blazing in her room.

_When you play with fire… You get burned._

The Hound's… Sandor's statement from the night that he had saved her from Theon's perversions echoed around her head.

_It's such a mysterious phrase, and it was almost like he meant it in a literal, but also a hypothetical way. Was it directed at me? Am I going to experience trouble? Is he trying to warn me that I shouldn't play with fire? He is so confusing but I can't shake his voice from my head… It's so interesting, he's so different to every man I've ever met. He just simply doesn't care about anything or anyone, it's like he isn't even human._

The fire crackled and popped, and Tarynn could feel her face burning up, she idly ran her fingers through her damp hair, the ends had to begun to dry but no doubt her roots would take a long time. She sighed and reached for the brush that Gerta had left her and began to brush her hair through, and called Gerta to get her a book to read, something to keep her mind off all the events that had happened in quick succession over the past few days.

* * *

When Tarynn walked the corridors to Bran's room it was eerily deserted, not a single soul was in this stretch of hallway. There wasn't even a guard at the door. When Tarynn reached it, she rapped the dark wood with her knuckles before letting herself in without waiting for an answer. She wasn't too surprised to see her mother sitting beside Bran's bed. In her hands was the fruit of her labours, the starting of a plaited twine and straw hanging of the Seven Gods of the Sept. Tarynn didn't follow the New Gods, she was too raptured by the ambiguity of the old, but she respected them.

"Mother, you should rest, you've been up the whole of the past night." Her mother's face was sharp and gaunt when she looked up, Tarynn briefly noted how different her mother looked, how she looked hardened, and stricter, stricter even then before. Tarynn moved closer to Bran, her eyes following the rise and fall of his chest, the shallow breathing he emitted and the quiet rattle of his lungs. She sat down in the space beside him and took hold of his small hand, gently caressing it with her fingers. "I bet you're dreaming Bran, you always tell me these wonderful dreams. Of how you've climbed the tallest tree in the world, and you looked down and you could see everything. Like it was a map unrolled before you." Tarynn wiped away a tear that leaked onto her cheek with the heel of her hand, "And then remember when we had agreed that we had had the same dream, we had been some sort of woodland animal, scurrying around in the forests. Do you remember Bran?"

The only answer she got was silence, tears began to freely flow down her face and she hunched over as she began to sob. There was a creak of a chair and then warm arms around her, comforting arms.

"Hush, hush."

"I shouldn't go, I should stay here. My place is here." She looked back at Bran, "I would give anything to see him smile one more time before I go."

She turned her face away and pressed it into her mother's chest.

"You need to go Tarynn, I was wrong to try and convince you to stay. You cannot stay hidden away here for the rest of your life. You deserve to experience excitement. I will write to you, everyday."

"You promise?" Tarynn lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen from crying; a tiny bit of inside of her chided herself for being so childish but she brushed it aside.

"I promise."

Catelyn kissed her eldest daughter on the forehead, and affectionately twisted some hair that had fallen across Tarynn's face back behind her ear.

"Now go, otherwise they will leave without you. I'll see you soon my sweet, it will not be long. You'll see."

Tarynn stood, and bent over Bran, placing two kisses on his forehead, "Goodbye, you will always be in my prayers."

She left the room, but not without one glance back at her mother. She smiled and Tarynn smiled in return before gently closing the door.

When Tarynn reached the yard the neighing of horses and the chatters of a hundred men filled her ears. She was almost instantly bombarded by Rickon. Who came running towards her, bawling his eyes out.

"Me going to miss you Ta Ta."

Tarynn scooped him up and held him against her hip, "I'm going to miss you too, but it won't be long and then I'll see you again," She put him back on the ground, and bent to ruffle the fur of the black direwolf who was constantly at the toddler's side, "And Shaggydog."

"Well I guess this is goodbye."

Tarynn straightened and turned to Robb, "It's not forever Robb." She gripped his chin and turned his head to the left, "When I next see you I bet you'll be sporting a beard."

He laughed, "When I next see you I bet you're going to be married." She pushed him gently for his comment and he laughed even harder, "I'm going to miss you sister."

The siblings embraced, "I'm going to miss you too."

"Well I shan't keep you, I think father said something about that chestnut mare being your steed. I would have thought you would be riding with the Queen, her children, Sansa and Arya."

"Well you obviously don't know me well enough, brother."

"Safe journey, I'm to distract Rickon, otherwise he'll just start crying again."

Tarynn laughed as her brother walked off, calling Rickon's name. She watched as the four year old poked his head from around the storage room, giggling before disappearing again. Robb ran after him, shouting Rickon's name at the top of is lungs as he stormed off. She laughed once more, shaking her head before turning towards where her horse was supposed to be.

It was the same mare that she had ridden when she had gone with… Theon to the forest. She was quiet, calm, with a lovely temperament. Tarynn couldn't think of a finer horse to ride south with. She walked up to her steed and stroked it's soft, warm nose. It nuzzled against her touch and whinnied softly, Tarynn smiled. But then all in a second it changed, the horse's eyes widened and its pupils dilated as it began to shake her head. Tarynn realised the reason when she felt her skirts stir and looked down to see Tome, his bright blue, inquisitive eyes staring up at her adoringly. She turned her gaze away from Tome and back to the horse, gently reassuring it with kind words and soft strokes.

"Your wolf seems to have set off quite a few of the horses." Tarynn looked up at the horses dotted around in the yard; they were all squirming away from their riders who struggled to keep them still, "I just wanted to…"

She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, "Don't Theon, just go."

"But…"

She opened her eyes and glared at Theon, her whole body tense as she lifted her arm and pointed in a different direction. Her voice was cold, "Go."

He looked down at the ground and scuffed his boot before moving away, his posture slightly slumped, a forlorn look graced his features.

"What did you say to him Wolf?"

Tarynn turned, and looked up slightly; his words resonated through her, sticking in her mind. He was dressed in grey steel armour under his arm was the helmet shaped into that of a snarling dog. She remembered it from when the entourage had first arrived, he had been wearing it, but she hadn't made the connection between the man who was a spoilt prince's hound to the man who had saved her from Theon's grasp. Now that the connection had been made she couldn't quite address him as Sandor, knowing that he was one of Joffrey's pets.

"I told him to go. I won't forgive him."

The Hound, scratched his neck, the burned side and Tarynn followed his movements. She wondered if it would feel rough or smooth, wherever it would break away in her hands or would be tough and withstand her touch. She was brought out of her daydream by his burning grey eyes, "Never forget what people do to you, it makes it easier to kill them." He took a swig from his infamous skin, "Ride safely Wolf, I'll be watching."

He left her then, standing beside her horse with her Direwolf at her feet.

_He's going to be watching me? I don't know whether to be perturbed or…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by Gerta who came running through the crowd of soldiers, "Tarynn, Tarynn!" She waved one of her hands, for the other one held her youngest son, Saleb, to her side. "I wanted to give you this," She rummaged in the pocket of her apron that was tied around her waist.

"But you've already given me the locket." Tarynn reached up and touched the smooth, cold metal that was nestled against her collarbone.

"Yes but…" She burrowed through her pocket a little more, "Aha!" She lifted a small silver box out of her pocket, "Found it." She handed it to Tarynn.

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out."

The silver box was tarnished with age, and there were strange inscriptions adorning it, Tarynn prised it open and looked at what was in it. A small sharp, shard of what looked like black glass lay on the faded red lining.

"Its dragonglass, I found it whilst cleaning out your grandmother's old room. It had been beneath one of the loose floorboards. I was going to return it to your father but… I held onto it, and so far it's given me great luck in life. In fact I'm certain of it. I met Jed the day after I found it. And now I hope it brings you luck, wherever you may end up."

Tarynn embraced her friend as best she could do with a child on her hip, "Thank you Gerta, words can't express how much I'll miss you."

"Just come back and visit me you hear."

"I will. I promise."

She kissed Saleb on the cheek as well, the small boy ducked his head and buried it in his mother's dark hair. The King's voice echoed around the yard, "Mount up!"

"Well… It's time for me to leave."

"I know… We'll see each other soon Tarynn remember that." Her dearest friend retreated through the hoard of mounted soldiers before she disappeared from Tarynn's view completely.

She turned and mounted her horse, sorting out her skirts so that they fell comfortably on either side of her. Tome probably had left all ready in order to hunt. She urged her horse forward, to where her father waited.

"Ready for the south Tarynn?"

"Not in the slightest, but I'm ready for whatever it may decide to give us."

The procession started forward, she had a good position near the front of the entourage, relatively close to the King, but she was the daughter of the famed Eddard Stark. As they rode out of the gate, thoughts coursed through her mind.

_We'll see each other soon, dear Winterfell._

The speed of the entourage increased and soon they were riding out of the village and towards the snowy plains.

This chapter of Tarynn's life had just ended.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello! And I'm sorry that it's been so long but I've had a busy few weeks, deadlines and job interviews among other things. But this update is here and I am already working on the next one. This chapter is quite short, but the next one will be longer, and hopefully will be a pleasant surprise! Thank you for the reviews, alerts and favourites. It really, truly does make writers feel much better, and much more inclined to write. Even though I've made you wait for a little while. So, please continue what you've been doing and make some suggestions! This is as much my story as it is yours.

Thank you for your continued support.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 8.

The fields that surrounded the King's Road were littered with snow. Huge, blank and white they reminded Tarynn of some crisp parchment she had found in Maester's Luwin's room when she had been younger. He had told her that the parchment had been a gift to him from an old friend who had visited Pentos. She remembered taking the parchment when Maester Luwin hadn't been looking, finding a bit of charcoal and scrawling a messy picture on the front of it. She strained her memory, but she couldn't remember what the picture had been. When she had returned to the Maester afterwards and presented him the once clean piece of parchment, he had taken it off of her, laughed, and told the five year old Tarynn that he was going to get a frame made for it. He hadn't scolded her; he didn't even appear to have been slightly agitated.

Tarynn sighed in her saddle, and shifted her weight a little. Up ahead was the road that led north to the Wall, it was just a dirt track, scattered with some stones and rocks here and there. The rest of the King's road looped round, heading back towards the south. Jon, her half-brother, was going to the Wall, and this fork in the road was where they were supposed to say their goodbyes.

Tarynn hadn't been extremely close to Jon, she had spoken to him often enough, helped him with a few odd chores but they weren't joined at the hip. No, her bastard brother was mostly favoured by Arya and Robb, Sansa and herself always kept their distance. Perhaps it was their mother's influence. Catelyn Stark had never fully accepted that her darling Ned had fathered a child with another woman, and disgust and annoyance of that fact was always directed at Jon Snow. He didn't truly deserve it; no one can be blamed for something that they had no control over… But then again neither could Theon.

_Forget him Tarynn, by the time you get back to Winterfell he would have returned to the Iron Islands, back where he belongs._

She shifted Theon from her mind, pushing him into a drawer where the rest of her forgotten memories were kept. Instead she focused on reaching her Uncle Benjen and Jon; they were riding slightly ahead of the Royal Entourage.

_They are taking a different path to us, theirs is cold and harsh, ours sunny and warm. I admire their strength; it takes a lot to willingly join the Night's Watch._

She urged her horse into a gallop, flying past foot soldiers and soldiers on horseback alike. She could see her father's grey cloak rising and falling with each whisk of wind; he was riding beside the King. Robert Baratheon's son and heir to the Iron Throne rode to the left of his father. She slowed down, she had been near the back of the train of people and wagons when she had decided to ride faster and catch up with the rest of her family.

_Well I only have father, Sansa and Arya now. The rest is in dear Winterfell._

Tarynn had felt that she had isolated herself from the rest of her riding comrades long enough.

She pulled sharply on the reins of her horse, and smoothly navigated herself so that she was riding quite close to her father, but close enough to be out of earshot. The soldiers around her moved to accommodate her and her horse, and she nodded at the couple who had caught her eye as they were moving out of the way. She leant back in her saddle and relaxed her arms, the cold mid morning breeze of the north washing over her face and neck.

"So wolf, decided to join your pack?"

She didn't know how he had sneaked up on her; he was clad head to toe in dark grey steel armour, his iconic helmet on his head. He didn't move his head to look at her, but then again she didn't know how he could move at all, all the metal he was wearing must weigh a ton.

"Yes, I decided to finish brooding over past memories and return to my… Well to half of my family. We've only been gone for half a morning and I already miss them… Do you have any family Sandor?" A silence stretched on between them, and she felt that she had said too much.

_Perhaps he is too used to being treated with scorn and unfriendliness._

But inside that long silence there was a hint of unspoken trust between them, a trust that must have settled into place when he saved her from Theon's… delusions. That glimmer of trust, and heroic tendency on Sandor's part, alerted Tarynn to the fact that the Hound can't be inherently evil.

_There has to be a small shard of good in him somewhere, and I plan on finding it._

After what seemed to be a century, Sandor broke the silence, his distinctive voice echoed slightly as he spoke from within his helm, "Family… They only want one thing and that's how they can use you to better themselves. Waste of fucking time. All they want are things that will strengthen their precious house. You'll be sold Wolf, to the Knight or Lord," He spat onto the snow, "Who gives the highest bid."

She clenched her gloved fist around her horses' rein, she wanted to shout at him, tell him he's wrong.

_But he's right of course, isn't that one of the reasons they wanted me to marry Theon? But then father saved me from the emotional disaster that our marriage would inevitably have been. He gave me the chance to go south… And be married to another pompous twit. _

Tarynn looked down at her horses' brown coat, her voice small when she responded, "Father would never do that to me."

"Just you wait; it isn't all romance and flowers down south. You'll be given to the man who gives your father the best connections. That's how it works." His voice was unemotional; it was gruff and to the point. She felt uncomfortable hearing what he was saying, and she thought of ways to turn the tables.

"Are you married?"

There was a bark of laughter from within the helm, "Hah, only the whores will bed this ugly bastard and even then they only want my coin. Marriage is a moronic practice, the husband hardly stays faithful. Always has his eye on the other women around him." He reached up and with one hand took off his helm; he turned slightly in his saddle to face her, his scar a vivid red in the morning sunlight, "I hope I haven't scared you off the important ceremony of marriage." His eyes bored into her own and she clutched the rein tighter.

"I never wanted to marry anyway."

"Really? And why's that Wolf?" His voice rasped as he said Wolf and a tingling sensation ran up her spine.

"I…" She was about to tell him her actual reason why, how she was scared of intimacy on such a personal level, how she was unsure of what she was supposed to do once married. On how she didn't know if the man she would have to marry truly loved her. But instead she settled for a '"Don't know."

"Don't know, or don't want to tell the horrific hound. I didn't realise you were scared of me." There was a hint of sarcasm, and he lifted his wineskin to his lips.

"I'm not scared of you."

He wiped the residue of the wine off his lips with his leather glove; his voice was barely audible "Well obviously I'm doing something wrong." His response was curt and sharp, "You should be scared of me Wolf, I'm the most dangerous man you'll ever meet."

And that thrilled her.

* * *

She didn't really say to goodbye to Jon, it was a half wave as he rode off with Uncle Benjen; she instead focused all her attention on saying goodbye to the imp. He had given her a book that he thought would interest her, and in return she promised to write him about the proceedings in King's Landing at least once a month. It was slightly funny as she didn't really know Tyrion too well and she should have spent more time bidding her half brother luck in his travels. But she felt that she had known the disfigured man forever, he had that sort of enigmatic personality.

She had ridden up beside him and bid her farewells, in return he had kissed her hand.

"Keep safe Tarynn Stark, and when I return to the warmth of the south I will come visit you."

"I would like that very much Tyrion."

"Good, now I must be off, the icy expanse of the Wall awaits me."

He tapped his horse with his heel and set off, his small retinue of Lannister guards that were accompanying him following. He looked back once and she raised her hand, he nodded before continuing on his way, trying to catch up with Uncle Benjen and Jon who were far ahead.

"Tarynn we must ride fast to catch up with the King. Can you… Handle it?"

_Mother must've told him that I was on my moonblood._

"Yes, don't worry about me father."

"Good."

He spurred his horse forward and galloped off at a fast pace. With a soft, "Yah." And nudge of her boot she chased after him, her horses' hooves churning up the snow. She laughed with glee as she urged her horse to gallop faster; she wanted to catch up to her father. He laughed too, the first time since Bran had fallen from the tower...

She slowed down slightly, her joy from a moment ago evaporating as she thought over the situation that her beloved Bran was in. She didn't know if he was going to get well, she didn't even know if he was going to wake. Guilt from leaving him resurfaced in her chest. The wind whipped against her hair, and the trees began to merge together as she rode past. Her mind rambled over scenarios, over the worst ones, and the best. She looked to the skies, searching the misty grey emptiness for any signs of ravens, but it was clear. No black creature caused a blot on the otherwise perfect sky.

She rode on, half standing in her saddle in her bid to overtake her father. He was quite far ahead though, and the King's retinue was even further. She urged her horse on, patting its neck as froth began to form around its mouth. A tree had fallen up ahead, the tracks in the dirt road had shown that the carts and moving house had gone around the fallen giant but Tarynn felt a rush of adrenalin in her veins.

_I can make that jump. I know I can._

She corrected her riding stance, and gripped her reins. She spoke encouraging words to her steed as she began to direct her towards the tree that was blocking the road, her heart thudded in her ears and blood rushed to her head when…

There was a shout, and her horse reared, almost throwing Tarynn off had the oldest Stark not clutched to the horse's mane. In front of them was a band of strangely clad people. Feral, odd, but most of all dangerous men formed a semi circle around her and her horse which had now settled back down on the ground,

_Wildings! Actual Wildings, south of the Wall._

One of the men took a step towards her, his eyes glinting in the morning sun. Whatever he said Tarynn could not understand him. He took another step; holding out his hand, in his other he had a rusted metal dagger. Her horse skipped back. She wanted to look behind herself, to see if there was anyone there, if they had surrounded her. But she didn't want to take her eyes of the man wielding a dagger, the one who was closer to her then the other two that stood on either side of him. He made the gesture again, a sly grin twisting his features, and pointed at her horse, and then at her. She understood that he wanted her horse… And probably more.

She gripped her reins, and the man again moved closer, close enough to reach out and touch the nose of her horse. Her voice was shaky when she spoke.

"Stay back! Don't come any further."

There was another shout and she looked up, her father was riding fast back towards her, Ice loose in his hand. Behind him was a group of soldiers, and even the King. Her father shouted again, but whatever he said she could not hear. The Wildling made a low guttural sound in his throat and him and his companions began to converge on her. She panicked.

Tarynn spurred her horse on, riding down the man in front of her. There was sickening crunch but she dared not look at what she had done. The fallen tree blocked her way towards the retinue that was just on the horizon, and she was too close to attempt a jump. The other two wildings came towards her slashing at her with their rusting knives, strange words dripping from their tongues. Instead she steered her horse towards the woods and rode into the underbrush.

Twigs scratched at her face and tore at her cloak, wild shrieks sounded behind her as the remainder of the wilding band pursued her into the dark forest. She whipped her head around, glancing over her shoulder.

_Three remain; the fourth and fifth one must be dead then._

A shudder rippled through her, she had killed a man today. There was a distant howl as she turned her attentions back towards riding; she urged her horse over a log before sitting heavily back down in her saddle and snapping her reins. They sped through the woods, the inhuman cries of the wildings growing distant, she didn't cease riding though.

_I need to get back to the King's Road, if I make a wide arc, and bypass the wildings…_

She guided her horse into galloping in a wide semi-circle, ducking under low hanging branches whenever the need arose. What happened next was distorted, as if she had opened her eyes underwater. Her horse reared, and she slipped off, tumbling to the floor. There was a panicked scream which manifested into a gurgling sound, and hot liquid gushed onto her. Whatever it was splattered onto her face and she coughed and spluttered, a metallic taste resonating around her mouth. She watched, her eyes hazy, as her horse fell to the floor, a large gash across her throat, blood still bubbling out.

The wilding who had struck the killing blow to her steed advanced on her, his blade still dripping with blood. It gleamed menacingly in the dark of the forest. He spoke in the same guttural language as the one before him. With every step he took he said another word, his voice haunting, and his stance aggressive.

He brought his blade above his head, the grisly blood dripped down, matting his wild hair. She shuffled back her hands seeking for anything that could serve as a weapon. Her hands clasped around a piece of wood,

_It won't kill him, but perhaps it will confuse him long enough for me to run._

She was about to throw the wood in the general direction of the wilding's face when through her distorted mind; she deciphered the sound of hooves. They grew nearer, but still the wilding advanced, a crazed look in his eyes. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel the cold, wet blade opening her skin, but instead…

She heard another scream, this time a human one, and then something grasping the front of her dress. The fabric ripped as she felt the earth fall away from her, she opened her eyes and looked into those of Sandor Clegane. She realised that he was lifting her up, and she helped him by scrambling onto his horse, sitting in front of him as he continued to ride.

"That wilding was going to split you from navel to nose."

His voice was coarse and rough in her ear, a shiver travelled up her spine and she could smell the scent of wine on his breath. She gripped the pommel of his saddle tighter, the skin over her knuckles turning white. There was a feeling of guilt set deep in her stomach, if she hadn't attempted to jump the fallen tree she wouldn't have been hemmed in by the wildings, and her horse wouldn't have been killed. She felt sorry for the creature, whose corpse now lay forgotten on the forest floor, left for the carnivorous wildlife to feast upon.

"You rode over that wilding. His face was smashed in, fragments of skull everywhere, seems like you prefer flirting with danger." His voice had hints of an accusation laced within his words.

"I didn't mean to kill him, he gave me no choice." But there was a flicker of rejection to the statement that she had just made in the back of her mind. She had meant to kill him, that's why she had ridden him _down._

"You're lucky they didn't act faster, they would have had you off that horse, on the floor and raped before you could even begin to scream." As he spoke, the vibration of his words thrummed against her back, and she leaned backwards, just slightly, into the warmth that his body released.

It reminded her of the time he carried her to her bed, when she was ill.

_For someone so dangerous, he makes me feel so safe._

She looked down, the front of her dress was drenched in horse blood; it was smeared over her chest. There was a rip too, where the bodice had been wrenched away from the skirt as Sandor had lifted her onto his horse. She lifted a trembling hand to her cheek, feeling the dried blood splattered there. She gasped, and began to retch.

The horse slowed, and Sandor moved quickly, jumping off the horse before helping her down. Tarynn bent over in the bushes, the contents of her stomach spilling out onto the green foliage.


	9. Chapter 9

Hello, and another thank you for simply everything that you've been doing. This chapter might seem a bit confusing because I've added another POV and a couple of dream sequences as well, but overall I think it's pretty easy to follow. Please tell me what you think with a review, it's greatly appreciated.

I would also like to thank a few people:

Eidolon02 - I'm glad you're with me as I try to induct Tarynn into the crazy world of King's Landing. Your paragraphs are greatly appreciated! :)

Underthenorthernlights - I'm glad you think I have Sandor's voice down, he is such a hard character to write!

And all the others who have reviewed this story and followed it, each and everyone of you are inspiring me to continue writing this story.

Also Menthes - I will try to write all my life! And I was aiming it to be canon, I'm glad you are enjoying it.

Thanks!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Chapter 9.

Wolves and Hounds.

He didn't know what to do.

When Lord Eddard Stark had returned to the bulk of the King's party his face white and ashen as he commanded a group of soldiers to follow him, Sandor had strained his hearing to try and capture what was going on. He had been beside Joffrey, the spoilt little brat who had the façade of being able to control his savage Hound. But when a passing soldier said the name of the person who was in danger…

It was her. She was in danger. He couldn't explain the tumult of feelings that had rushed through him at the moment that the soldier uttered her name, and he didn't care to. He had abandoned Joffrey, the whiny boy trying to command him to stay where he was but it was too late. The Hound was already on the trail, sniffing out his prey.

And now here he was, standing behind a girl covered in blood, and throwing up the contents of her stomach. He wondered if he should help her hold her hair out of the way, and was about to move when she straightened up, still clutching her stomach. Her hair was wild, and her pale white face had a drawn look about it. Her eyes dazed and confused. But the most startling thing was the amount of blood that had drenched her. It had been a bright, ruby red when he had found her, huddled on the forest floor, backed up against a tree trunk as a Wilding loomed over her. Now it had dried, it began to flake, giving her ghoulish, inhumane look. But beneath the blood, and the dirt; beneath the confusion and wild look in her eyes, she still looked oddly…

He was brought out of his thoughts and snapped into the present by a hand covering his own, she was touching him, actually touching him. He looked up to see if there was any fear or disgust covering her features, but there wasn't.

"Take me…" Her throat was hoarse, and she swayed slightly, he reached out and gripped her other arm tightly to stop her from crumpling to the ground, "I need to… Return to the King's…" Her eyes drooped and she closed them for a few seconds before reopening them again, "Please."

Her eyes stared into his own, as if she was looking through his eyes and into his soul. The blue pools enraptured him, and he felt a stir in his stomach, the likes of which he had never felt before.

_Keep away from her you pitiful monster, don't go getting ideas, hope is too dangerous. I'm a hound, a dog, I know what happens when a dog strays or bites back, they get put down._

He removed his hand from her touch, and guided her roughly back to the horse, hefting her up before mounting the horse himself, "I'm not going to leave you here, just warn me before your going to throw the contents of your dinner up, I like the horse the colour it is." He snapped the reins and again they went flying through the forest, the hound and the wolf.

When Sandor heard voices, shouts of 'Tarynn' and 'Lady Stark' reverberating off the trunks of the trees, he slowed down from a gallop to a trot; searching the bushes for any armor that might reflect the thin sunlight that drifted through the canopy of trees, or fur cloaks that snaked within the underbrush. From quite out of nowhere, a group of Stark guards burst into the natural forest path that Sandor was guiding his horse down, he called out to them.

"I've found the girl." He dismounted, and tried to help Tarynn down; she fell woodenly into his arms, her face pressed against the cool metal of his breastplate. "She's in shock, but not hurt."

"We'll be the judge of that Hound," Jory Cassell, one of the Stark men, pushed him aside and took Tarynn into his own arms. The girl, soaked in blood, looked over her shoulder, her unfocused eyes searching for something. When her dilated pupils locked on his a small smile graced her lips and she looked like she was having a moment of clarity. Pure unadulterated joy rushed across her features and she mouthed a couple of words. "Thank you."

She then turned around again as she was dragged away from him, he took a step back, crossing his arms across his chest as he watched Tarynn being escorted towards a horse. With the help of Jory she mounted, and was led out of the clearing.

He sighed, the sound rumbling in his chest. He spied a rabbit in the shadows, and moved towards it, stalking it like a dog would a cat. He reached out, quick as lightning and grasped the small creature round the neck. It kicked and squealed, screaming in fear. With a twist of his hand, it was dead.

A rush of release coursed through his veins when he felt the life of the rabbit ebb away, he felt better after killing; it gave him an unexplainable pleasure. He reached down to his hip, feeling for his wineskin. Once found, he brought the skin to his lips and took a hefty draught. The contents burned his throat as the liquid slipped down, but the regular mist that covered his mind and thoughts that had started to slip away, returned. He shook his head, and threw the rabbit in the general direction of the deeper parts of the forest. He turned and went to mount up when he heard a crunch, the unmistakable snapping of bones.

With one hand still on his horse's saddle, Sandor turned towards the noise, his eyes straining as he peered into the darkness. Two bright blue eyes, stared back at him.

His words were rough, grating, "Where were you Beast? When your mistress was in danger? I thought you were supposed to protect her." The direwolf growled and slinked from the shadows, his blue eyes unblinking, "Instead the Hound bested the wolf, a tale fit for the Bard's lyre." He gave a short bark of laughter and the wolf growled in return before settling down on its haunches. "I saved her, me, the disgusting, hideous Hound. And then those north men take her away, claim that they stopped a wilding from slitting her pretty white throat and raping her corpse…" He leaned into the saddle. "Who does that bitch think she is anyway? Getting into trouble and the expecting to be rescued…" Sandor Clegane groaned, before heaving himself into the saddle, he guided his horse around who skittered due to the Direwolf's presence. He was looking at the wolf as he spoke, "But I'll keep saving her," He took a swig from his wineskin, dulling out the presence of her in his thoughts, "Because she doesn't treat me like a mindless animal."

He rode off, away from the direwolf's howls which shook the birds from the trees.

* * *

The carriage rumbled and rattled, as Tarynn Stark lay unconscious on a soft feather mattress, an older servant fussed around her. She had been cleaned and was wearing a light weight white sleep dress, the linen fabric that was being used to soak up her moonblood had been changed, and the gash she had received when she had galloped through the low hanging branches had been cleaned. Her chest rose and fall, her face removed of any signs of worry or trouble.

Outside her father had issued four of his own house guard to ride next to the carriage, Ned Stark rode point, weary of any other wildings that may slink from the forests confines and attack them by surprise. Sansa and Arya were still inside the moving house that the Queen was in, even Joffrey had been ordered to stay within its creaking walls. This stretch of the King's Road was too dangerous, now that a wilding presence had been revealed.

The Hound hung back, having been formally chastised by the King for abandoning the person he was suppose to be guarding; Joffrey, but he didn't care. He shrugged, muttered "a yes your Grace", and moved to the back of the entourage where he could drink his wine, and watch over the carriage that she was in, a strange sensation fluttered over him and he leaned forward in his saddle, waiting for the carriage to stop, and Tarynn to get out.

_Howling filled the air._

_Colours merged, greens became browns, golds became reds as they flew past. Brother chased sister as they ran along the winding paths through the forests. Paths made by the indigenous creatures who had claimed this land as their own. He tumbled into his sister, snapping at one of her haunches as they tumbled together in the dirt, brown fur and grey rippling together. They were pulled apart by a short, curt bark. The other sister prowled around, not joining in, remaining indifferent to the situation._

_He considered her; lean, supple but more lordly. She strived in being the gentle but commanding one. He moved away, disappearing into the bushes, padding along silently when he heard the noise that the creatures the humans rode upon made. And then the sound of something moving fast, disturbing the forest floor. He sniffed the air when he heard it. _

_He raced towards her, his charge, he was her guardian. They were connected by some unexplainable bond but by the time he had got there, the thing with two legs on top of the creature with 4 was already riding away from him, with his human. He was about to go after them, but the human that she was with smelled familiar, the one on the floor however, he smelled strange._

_He moved towards whatever it was and pushed his snout against it. He recoiled, before moving forward again and biting it. It didn't stir. He slinked away, realising that this human had fallen prey to the other human astride one of the creatures that were afraid of him and his sisters. He gave chase then, following the scent of the human and the creature._

Tarynn sat up, her eyes flying open. Her breathing came out heavy and ragged. A woman she didn't know came towards her, a cup in her hand. She forced Tarynn into swallowing its contents, she had tried to push it away but her arms felt wooden and clumsy and her voice hoarse and dry. The liquid slipped down and she recognised the taste.

_Milk of the poppy, but I don't want to sleep… The nightmares…_

Tarynn's eyes grew heavy and she slumped onto the mattress, the last she saw was the woman's lined face, looming over her.

_Distorted and vivid, stained with a red tinge; bones crunched beneath his teeth, and the flesh was tough, stringy. The dog man was staring, straight at him. He blinked once, before returning the steady gaze. The human started talking, in the rough language that his bond usually spoke to him in. He pricked up his ears as the human walked towards him._

"…_Mistress…"_

_He growled, and moved forward out of the cover of the trees. He tasted the air, and the man made a noise in the back of his throat. He countered it with a growl before settling on his haunches._

"…_Bitch… Save…Hound…'_

_He stayed unmoving until the skittish creature and its human disappeared between the trees. He let out a howl, before sprinting towards where he envisioned his bond was being taken._

_**Images flickered, lights faded, faces loomed. Fire burned, people laughed, blood ran a bright red. Rivers flowed, metal rang, screams escaped into the air.**_

_**She fell, down, down.**_

_**Deeper, deeper.**_

_**No bottom, no end.**_

_**Continuous, unchanging, unmoving, no- one to catch her; nothing to break her.**_

_**A voice, rasping, unemotional, distorted. Reached through, tendrils sweeping out, aching, hoping, wanting.**_

_**She fell, down, down.**_

_**No bottom, no end.**_

When Tarynn awoke next no-one was with her, the place was dark and still. The air cool but stagnant, and the unmistakable stench of antiseptic balms made her choke. She lifted herself up, pushing herself so that she rested against the wooden side of the carriage she was undoubtedly in. She touched her chest, then her face, and then her hair. Feeling, searching, for any of the gore that had covered her before; she was free of it.

Gingerly she moved back the covers and the cold air touched her bare legs, she felt around, patting around the mattress before moving her legs out of the bed carefully. Her bare feet touch the cold wood and she recoiled in shock, before standing up. She moved with the shadows, holding her hands out in front of her so that she didn't bump into anything.

She found a candle, and then a match, striking it against the rough inner side of the carriage she lit the candle and held it up so that she could take in her surroundings. She was in one of the carriages put aside for the soldiers to sleep in when they didn't have a shift and had had the sentry post at night, but the entourage was still moving. She found a chest, and upon opening it found some garments. She placed the candle on a metal candle holder which had a handle and held it to the chest, with one hand she pulled out a plain white shirt, linen trousers and what looked like some rough spun fabric shoes. She took them out and threw them on the bed, there was other things in the chest, daggers, and a pouch with some wild flowers in it but she left them be. All she wanted was to borrow some clothes.

Placing the candle holder on top of the chest, she took off her white shift and stood naked in the freezing cold air. She had no undergarments for her chest, not even bindings so she slipped on the thin shirt over her bare breasts, before turning her attentions to the trousers. They had no finicky hook and catch so she simply pulled them on and tied them up. Next she put on the shoes, they were rough and coarse on the soles of her feet but they were better than going barefooted. She then took the grey blanket from off the bed, and threw it over her shoulders before knotting it around her neck.

She went to retrieve the candle and remembered the daggers in the chest, and took one just as a precaution. She would return it, along with the clothes, later when she had cleared her head. Slipping the dagger into the waistband of her trousers, she pulled open the doors to the carriage and stepped onto the first step.

The sky overhead glittered with stars, a million of them shone down at her, winking and waving as they continued endlessly to float across the inky blue pool that was the sky. She took a deep breath of the chilly air and it washed through her lungs, freezing her insides. She sighed, and went down the rest of the steps. When she reached the ground, she saw a dozen tents set up on either side of the King's Road. She didn't know how long she had slept for, but it seemed that they were almost past the Wolfswood and had begun to enter the Barrowlands, which mainly consisted of flat, barren land.

She turned away from the tents, and away from the two guards who were standing quite close to where she was. She walked briskly towards the edge of the woods.

_I probably shouldn't go back in there, what was it that Sandor had said? Looking for danger? Flirting…_

She couldn't remember it, but she had known that she had almost been killed had it not been for Sandor rescuing her.

_Once again, I owe him more than just my life now._

A twig snapped and it echoed out into the night, she thought someone had heard but no one came to inspect the noise if they had. She continued on her way when something brushed past her leg, something warm and large.

She looked down; by her feet was Tome, his blue eyes reflecting the light of the stars. She knelt and rubbed his forehead, her voice a whisper, "Are you going to accompany me? You have to be quiet though." Her wolf licked her hand, and a low whine escaped from him, "Hush."

Together, woman and wolf walked towards the trees, once beneath the natural canopy Tarynn began to talk, her voice quiet.

"Do you think he means well Tome? He saved my life, he stop that wilding from slitting my throat. I owe him…" Tome whined and snaked between her legs, "I don't know what to think, he's so brutal and uncaring, yet he risked being executed for neglecting and going against the King's orders to stay and guard the Prince." She held a low hanging branch out the way and turned to her wolf, "Is there a Godswood, or something similar, in these woods Tome? I want to pray for Bran." The wolf moved past her, his fur rippling in the moonlight.

Tarynn followed, and a small amount of time passed before Tome led her into a small clearing. There was a pool of water, and hanging over it was a tree. The same bark as the tree in Winterfell's Godswood but this one had no face carved into it.

She went to the pool and knelt, dipping her hands into the cool water, she washed. When she had finished she sat cross legged, and clasped her hands together.

_Please, make Bran wake up. Watch over him, keep him safe. Allow Maester Luwin to cure him properly. Take care of mother, give her strength, make her cope. And Robb, Rickon, protect them and guide them. Now and forever._

She paused, looking up at the white bark of the tree, Tome had sat down beside her, he rumbled as he breathed.

_Watch the Hound, and pray for me. Give me the ability to overcome whatever might get in my way._

She was about to stand, and return to the carriage but Tome began to growl his ears pricking up, his haunches rising.

"Tell your creature to leave me be wolf."

Tarynn closed her eyes.

_His voice._

"Tome… Sit."

Her wolf did as he was told, sitting back down on the forest floor. Tarynn instead rose, and turned to the man whose voice had started to haunt her dreams.

"I didn't have the chance to…"

"Don't, you say thank you too much."

"Well what am I supposed to say? You saved my life!"

He shrugged, "Get me a cask of wine, that's thank you enough."

She took a step closer, her eyes floating over his figure. He wasn't wearing his armor instead wore similar to what she was wearing, a thin white shirt which revealed his well defined chest and stomach, and coarse brown trousers. On his feet he wore leather boots. She glanced back up at his chest and then realised, in a moment of self consciousness, that her own chest was practically bare. She pulled the blanket further over her shoulders, and folded her arms across her chest.

"Bit late for that…" He smirked and she looked away, her cheeks flushing a bright, furious red. "What are you doing out here."

"I could ask the same of you."

"To clear my head, and drink myself into oblivion," He held up his flask, "Want some."

"No thank… No."

"Suit yourself," He tipped some of the liquid into his mouth and swallowed, "This stuff is good shit, makes the nightmares disappear."

"You have nightmares."

He grinned, "You like asking questions don't you? When you've killed as many people as I have, men, women…Children, it starts creeping up on you. You see their faces, bloodless, lifeless surrounding your thoughts. The wine," He gestured to his wineskin, "Helps with that."

"Why do you kill?"

The Hound stopped drinking and stared at her, his brow furrowed above his cold emotionless eyes, "Why do you read? Why do you write pages of crap on history that happened fucking years ago?"

She recoiled in shock, taking a step back from him. "Why are you like this?"

"What do you expect me to be? Kind, considerate? Open your eyes!" He made a drunken sweep with one of his arms, "People are not kind, they are not considerate. They will take everything they can from you; your pride, your dignity… Your looks…" He brushed away some of the matted hair that hung over the burnt side of his face, revealing more of the scar that had carved it's way onto his flesh. "But I don't expect you to understand, I'm like this because I can, because people can't hurt you if you hurt them first." He took another drink, "You better go back to the carriage wolf, before they set the guards on you." He began to move, to turn towards the trees and disappear between the leaves.

"Wait!" He turned again, his unnerving gaze settling on her face once more. "I…"

"You what? Spit it out girl, I have better things to do."

She bit her lip, standing on her tiptoes, "I'm sorry, for you, for your… Scar. For the way people have treated you. But I'm not going to do that. So please… Don't treat me like I am. I want to understand, really Sandor I do…" She moved forward, closing the distance between them, "You can trust me; it's the least I can do…"

She stood on her tiptoes, stretching up to reach his scarred cheek. She kissed it, gently, and was surprised that the charred skin was in fact smooth and subtle. She moved away, suddenly embarrassed by her boldness. He gripped her arms, to stop her from moving away from him. Se feared that her arms would bruise, his grip was so strong. She was forced to look into his eyes. Grey steel, beneath thick brows. The scar stood prominent, giving him a monstrous appearance.

His face leaned towards her, and the stench of wine overpowered her senses. His voice was low and husky. And as he removed one of his hands from her arm, to brush aside some of her dark brown hair, his fingertips left a burning trail on her cheek.

"When you play with fire, you get burned…"


	10. Chapter 10

I don't really have anything to say! Which is kind of odd. :) Just keep doing what your doing!

Slightynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 10.

His face was mere inches from her own; she could see the dark shadow of stubble that graced his features and his breath stank of wine.

_He's going to kiss me. I'm not ready for this, not yet._

"Sandor please, not now, not yet." Her voice was timid, quiet, scarcely more than a whisper. She continued to stare at his features, most importantly his eyes. They were a cloudy grey when he had leaned towards her but now they were crystal clear. And as she continued to gaze into them she found something that she thought she wouldn't have never seen in the Hound's eyes.

Hurt.

"Huh," He let go of her hands and she stumbled back a couple of paces, making a condescending noise in the back of his throat. "A lying Wolf, and a hideous Hound."

"I am not a liar."

"So your whole speech about you… Treating me different was what? Sympathy on your part, well I don't need your fucking sympathy," His voice was sharp, and cut through Tarynn as if he was wielding a sword and had opened her up, revealing her insides. She clenched her fists. "You can shove it where the sun don't…"

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"You better get used to it sweetheart because that's how those pompous fuckers down in King's Landing are going to talk to you like." He stepped forward, his words menacing, his eyes narrowed. Tarynn's heart began to beat faster, her rib cage throbbing. "You're an outsider, you come from the North, you don't belong in the South. You'll be torn apart," He jabbed a finger at her before retrieving the wine flask from his hip, opening it, and taking a large gulp, "Do you know what happens to Wolves who are separated from their packs? They starve, they die."

Tarynn felt rage bubbling up inside her, rage for this outlandish man with the voice that made her heart rate quicken and her mind throb, "And do you know what happens to Hounds?" She took a step forward, "They get separated from their pack and the hunter becomes the hunted. You're as much an outsider as I am, even more so. So don't chastise me over not letting you kiss me. Don't try and understand something that you have no hopes of trying to understand. You've been scarred, and so have I, I won't let you scare me. You're just like all the others, hiding behind a mask of rage and power. You kill because it's the only thing you're good at, and because people have already degraded you to the status of a monster, so your motto is 'why not act like it'"

She felt light headed as she concluded what she was saying.

"You're bold for saying that to me, I have killed many for less." His voice was deep and quietly threatening.

"But you won't kill me, you know why? Because I need you, but you also need me."

"I don't…"

_I do need him, if King's Landing is as bad as he says it is I'm going to need someone on my side, someone to watch my back. Someone as ruthless and heartless as the Hound on my side would make King's Landing much safer._

She stepped even closer, pushing away the thought of Theon.

_He's not Theon, he won't hurt me. He's feral and wild. But… He's got a different side too._

"You do." She dropped her voice to a whisper, "Where's your pack Sandor? Wolves and Hounds, we're not that different you and I. Please…" She reached for his hand, entwining his fingers with her own, her fingertips tracing over the hard calluses. "Please." She looked up once again, into his eyes.

A rumble sounded in his chest, "Cunning wolf," His rough fingertips brushed over the skin of her cheek and this time she didn't shy away, she stood her ground, refusing the thought of Theon to disturb this moment. "I think we can come to some agreement."

"Good, I'm glad that this didn't come to blows." She looked him up and down, pretending to measure him up, "I think I could have taken you."

He laughed, deep, a combination of voices which made Tarynn's heart beat perceptibly faster, "I'd like to see you try."

She grinned, and he grinned back. Both were happy and content in each others company but she knew that it would have to end sooner or later. She sighed, "I need to go, before someone finds I'm missing."

She unwrapped her fingers from his, and snapped her fingers, the signal that Tome should come to her side. She went to go past Sandor but he gripped her wrist;

_*He gripped her wrist so tightly she thought it might bruise.* Sandor is not like Theon, I can trust him_

Sandor's touch was gentle, surprisingly, "Why are you doing this… " She didn't answer him straight away, "Tarynn?" His voice was still gruff, still had the traces of his cold, menacing tendencies but it also held a level of intimacy. And Tarynn, for the first time in many years, didn't balk from this.

"I'm doing this because everyone deserves a chance; everyone deserves the opportunity to prove that they are not just a killer or an animal to be chained up and used, that they can be something else other than what is dictated to them."

Sandor loosened his grip, allowing her arm to drop, "What do you get out of this wolf?"

"Protection… Protection and a friend."

She walked away, leaving him staring after her as she vacated the clearing with its white bark tree and pool and disappeared between the leaves, Tome at her heel.

* * *

As Tarynn changed back out of the clothes she had borrowed, her mind replayed what had happened between Sandor and herself in the forest. How close they had been to kissing, to making their already confusing friendship into something even more confusing. Inwardly she sighed, as she turned back the covers of the makeshift bed and lay down.

She was scared. Scared of whatever this thing between her and Sandor was. She always favoured knowledge over romance, and logic and reasoning over the chaotic emotion that was love.

_Don't kid yourself, this thing between me and Sandor is nothing, we just need each other. That's it._

She turned over and blew out the candle, enveloping herself in darkness. As she drifted back into the land of dreams she prayed, prayed that her sleep would not be plagued with nightmares and for all those she had left behind at Winterfell.

*Sandor*

He picked up a heavy stick; the end was snapped and jagged he gave it a few short, violent swings before throwing it as far as he could. It spiralled in the end and landed, out of sight, out of mind. He went to the pool, collapsing down on his knees as he scooped up the cold water and splashed it over his face, ridding him of the burning sensation that had started up after she had kissed him on the cheek. He lifted his head, water droplets running down his face and over his strong jaw line. The water soothed the itching of his skin, relieving the taut flesh. He stared at his reflection in the water, at the scars that marred his face. He would have been handsome, had his brother not held him against a naked flame.

_All I wanted was the toys he didn't play with, that bastard. I'll gut him myself for what he's done, even he is of my own blood._

He knelt, much in the same position that Tarynn had been in earlier before he had disturbed her from her prayers. The girl confused him, her mannerisms, and her views, her tendency to shuffle on the spot whenever she was nervous. But this also intrigued him. He had never met someone so ready to accept him. Joffrey didn't count. The little shit ordered him around, forgetting that it would take only a fraction of a second for Sandor to thrust a sharp sword into his stomach. Tarynn was different though, she spent her time with books, spent her time looking out for her siblings, for her family.

She was so opposed to marriage yet family was one of the things most important to her.

He didn't really know what possessed him to agree with her, he wasn't good with the whole friendship thing. It had always been something that had eluded him. Even when he was young no-one wanted to play with him, he was maimed, a bad omen. No matter how many times he begged to join in with the other young boys when they played knights and maidens, or kicked a bloated pig's stomach around he was always refused. Always an outsider never accepted. He had resigned to believing that the world hated him, and in return he began hating it too.

_All because of a brazier and a fucking retard of a brother._

He splashed the water, removing his reflection from the shimmering pool for a few seconds before it reformed. He stood, if he wasn't back at his post soon some annoying shit would come and harass him.

He would honour his side of the deal with the Stark wolf; he would keep her safe, offer her advice should she need it of him. He didn't really know why she would. But he wasn't going to compromise his position as the Hound to Prince Joffrey, even though he hated the task, he still held a little bit of power over the spoilt Prince, which hopefully he would be able to use in order to knock some sense into him. As he walked back towards the encampment he questioned himself. He hadn't expected to be so ready to help a woman before, he had never had a relationship like the one he had with the Stark.

_But there's a first for everything, just don't try and kiss her again you fucking imbecile._

Sandor Clegane held away a branch from his face, and made his way back towards his charges.

*Tarynn*

When Tarynn stirred the cart was moving, it rattled and bumped as it made its way down the King's Road. She sat up, stretching her arms and back when she realised she wasn't alone. In the corner sat a young girl, a couple of years younger that herself she guessed. She had light blonde hair which looked brittle in the morning sunlight and wide, brown eyes which gave her the comical appearance of a deer trapped in front of an entire herd of horses. Tarynn gathered up her covers, hiding the fact that she was wearing practically nothing, she cleared her throat and addressed the girl.

"I'm sorry but who are you? I've not met you before."

The girl stood, and curtseyed slightly, her eyes fixed on Tarynn's face all the while, making Tarynn wonder about whether or not she had something unsightly on her face.

"Bronte, miss."

"Bronte? That's a really pretty name. Could you help me Bronte? I'm in dire need of clothes; dress, gloves, boots…."

"I have them here, Lady Cersei and his Grace have assigned me to you as your handmaid."

"And what does my father say to this?"

"Lord Stark accepted the offer; otherwise I would not be in this carriage."

"Uh huh," Tarynn stood, dropping the covers and reaching for the neatly folded undergarments, "I trust you've seen someone naked before?"

"Yes, miss."

Bronte hurried forward to help her, and slowly Tarynn began to get dressed. The dress that her father must have gotten from her trunk was a light grey and it had no inner lining, this intrigued her.

"Bronte?" The girl nodded, showing that she was listening, "Where are we?"

"We're just passing Moat Cailin,"

"Moat Cailin? Then we must almost be nearing the neck."

"You've been asleep for three days my Lady, this is the first I've seen you up."

"I… I see. We're moving at quite a fast pace then"

"The Queen is anxious to get back to King's Landing."

"Are you from King's Landing Bronte?"

The young girl slipped behind Tarynn, tightening up the strings of the bodice.

"Yes, lived there all my life, never even been out of the city until now. I used to be Princess Myrcella's handmaid until the Queen insisted that I become yours."

"I'm sorry; I can ask you to be returned to your former post if that's what you want."

"No, I'm perfectly fine miss. I'm sure you'll be much more interesting. One of the cooks boys, Tyson his name is, well he says you killed a wilding. He says that you're a beautiful warrior. Like one from the stories… He's older than me, I think he's reaching his 19th year, but I told him not to be silly… Is it true Lady Tarynn? Did you really kill a wilding?"

Tarynn didn't want to answer, she was ashamed of her act, even though it had been committed it self defence. She didn't like the fact that she had killed someone's son, someone's brother. Maybe he had been a father. Maybe he had a wife. She didn't like the fact that she had blood on her hands, so she decided to twist the truth a little.

"My horse… She got scared and galloped forward into the man. I think the weight of the horse running over him was what killed him."

She neglected to tell Bronte that she had in fact urged her horse on.

"I'm going to have to tell Tyson he was wrong later."

Tarynn sighed; she had just started her first lie. And it wasn't even a proper lie. She could just tell the truth but she was so ashamed, and people wouldn't look on her the same if they knew she was capable of killing people. A woman who killed? You're as good as dead to Westeros society. Wasn't there a female warrior from Tarth?

"Tell me about Tyson Bronte."

"Well where do I begin? Like I said he's a few years older than me but he's so good-looking. I mean Jessie and Hale both like him, but he says he doesn't like girls any younger than 16. Luckily I'm 16 now, so I guess I'm the right age for him…."

Tarynn listened to Bronte talk, nodding at the right spots, feigning interest in this boy Tyson, but really her mind was thinking of something else, more specifically someone else.

"… He really wants to meet you and I know he would be so impressed if I told him that I was now your handmaiden. We would get together for sure."

Tarynn was snapped out of her reverie, and turned to the young, slender girl. "Don't just get together with him because he looks nice, it's about personality, not looks."

Bronte looked down at the floor; she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, "Well he does bully my brother a lot. And he's not all that nice to Hale… Or Jessie."

Tarynn put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "Don't rush yourself Bronte, pretty girl like you is bound to find someone worthy." The tension in the room dissipated, Bronte smiled meekly, and Tarynn smiled too, "We should hurry up. I need to find another horse."

The next few moments passed in silence, the two new friends listening to the carriage wheels rolling over every bump in the road, which is until Bronte broke it with a question.

"Do you have a betrothed miss?"

Tarynn stopped tying her shoes and stared up at the girl her mouth slightly open, not even Gerta had asked questions so personal and she was Tarynn's closest friend.

_I wish you were here Gerta._

"I'm sorry?"

Bronte turned red looking down at the floor again, "I'm sorry milady I spoke out of turn."

Tarynn sighed, there was no reason to get angry at Bronte she had only asked a simple question. And she would learn of the answer soon enough when Eddard Stark started presenting good matches to his oldest daughter.

"Its okay, No I don't"

"Can I ask why?"

Tarynn resumed tying her boot up, even she didn't know the answer to that. Why wasn't she betrothed? Her father and mother could have had her betrothed to Theon years ago, or even a Frey, perhaps a Ramsay had Lord Bolton had another son. But she had remained open so to speak, she was to be auctioned off like a prize heifer to who 'gives the highest bid'.

"My parents just never discussed it with me, or felt that they should get me a betrothal at an early age. They don't really think about it. I guess they also wanted me to stay at home. Had I been betrothed I would have been married when I first started my moonblood and sent to live with whoever my husband was. By now I would have had children…"

Tarynn shuddered at the thought of having to squeeze out a baby.

"But it's so romantic."

_Maybe you should have been Sansa's handmaid._

"It's just not for me. Never has. Never will be…" There was another silence. "I need to go find a horse Bronte; do you know where my father is?"

"I can get you a horse. Do you want me to bring it here or…?"

"No, no I'll come with you. I need to get some air, I feel like I've been in here for centuries."

"Okay, but we're going to be going to the back of the train."

"Lead the way," She gestured towards the carriage door when Bronte didn't move, "I'm following you remember?"

Bronte opened the door and went down the steps, jumping off the bottom one. Tarynn followed suit but took a more delicate way of getting from the bottom step to the muddy ground. They dodged between horses, and ducked over low hanging flags that hung off of the back of carts. They had just reached the back of the train when Tarynn felt something grip her arm. She turned to face whoever it was and was surprise to see who it was.

"What are you doing here?"

Sandor rasped, before coughing into the air .

"What are you?! You're supposed to be with the Prince."

"It's my morning off, where are you going?"

"To get a horse, my one _died _remember?"

Sandor looked above Tarynn's head, his gaze directed at Bronte who was standing idly behind her. "Beat it girl, I'll take Lady Tarynn to get a horse." Bronte was obviously scared of him for she darted off without a backwards glance, "Not much of a servant is she, if she had half a brain she would have questioned me and gone to get a guard."

"She's scared of you Sandor, surely you can see that."

"Everyone's scared of me Tarynn; it makes no difference these days. Now come on, do you want a horse or not?"

He stomped forward through the wet mud which had been churned up by the wheels and horses of the King's entourage. She shadowed him, stepping in his footsteps. She was looking down at the ground, conscious of falling over and she didn't see Sandor stop.

She collided with his back, she looked up slightly dazed, placing her hands on the leather jerkin he wore.

"Sandor? What…"

Sandor crouched in front of her, and lifted his hand, pointing to something over the fields.

"Look."

Tarynn, still behind Sandor strained her eyes, what seemed to be a hundred leagues away, a couple of grey dots were flying across the landscape.

"What are they?"

"I thought you would know wolf."

Then it dawned on her, "Direwolves? How can you tell?"

"Look at how large they are, and how fast their moving. I thought it would be obvious." She tapped lightly on the back of his leather jerkin, and fiddled with a strand of his hair, her attentions diverted from the wolves that were running towards the woods. His voice accompanying her thoughts, "It's strange to see wolves this far south." He stood abruptly, throwing her off balance. She gripped onto his broad, muscled arm with both arms, he looked over his shoulder at her, "You alright there?"

"Perfectly fine, but I'd rather keep my dress mud free thanks."

"You want to hold my hand?" He did a small sneer, and the fascinated Sandor that had appeared just a few moments ago disappeared. Now she was left with the spiteful, scornful Sandor.

"Keep your hands to yourself." She went past him, lifting the skirts of her dress up slightly so that they weren't trailing in the mud. He followed.

When they reached the spare horses that were being led by a young boy on top a light brown horse, the first thing Tarynn noticed was the straw like blonde hair and gullible large brown eyes.

"You're Bronte's brother aren't you."

The boy pulled his horse to a stop, his eyes widening just like Bronte's did when Tarynn had first addressed her, "Milady Stark!" He jumped off his horse, and almost stumbled had Sandor not pulled him up roughly, "Hey mister let…" The boy looked up and Sandor grunted, a smirk covering his scarred features.

"I eat boys like you for breakfast."

The boy went limp, his eyes widening even more, "Please sir, I ain't done nothing…"

Tarynn went to the boys aid, "Don't worry, he goes for fat boys, more meat on them." She turned to Sandor, a smile gracing her features, "Isn't that right?"

Sandor didn't answer, he threw her a dark look before righting the boy on his feet. "The lady needs a horse."

The boy looked Tarynn up and down before scrambling to the bunch of horses, "Yes sir, right away sir."

"And don't call me Sir!" Sandor practically shouted at the poor lad.

"Sandor…" Her voice was quiet, a mere whisper. She looked up at him, her hand placed on his forearm. Her eyes met his and she could feel the anger bristling inside of him ebb out. She caressed the leather on his arm, still looking in his eyes and she felt something ignite inside of herself, something that she had never felt before, a burning desire just to be near him.

The revelation was broken by the boy's return and she stepped away from him, resorting back to facade of him being her guard. The young boy handed her the reins. "Finest courser, she will serve you well."

Tarynn looked over the horse, it had a white coat and a soft white mane. "Thank you…"

"Teddy."

"Teddy?"

"Yeah, Mum had an obsession with different names; full name's Tedius." Sandor snorted beside her.

"Tedius is a lovely name Teddy."

"Thank you miss, but I must be back to my horses."

The young boy mounted his horse and Sandor led the white courser out of the way, Teddy urged the horse forward and his group of horses followed.

"Well now we have a horse with no saddle." Tarynn scanned the backs of the carts she could see, searching for any sign of a saddle.

"I know, not the best thought out plan. " Sandor led the horse back to the train of carts. Since they had stopped in order to get a horse, the entourage had moved on further. "I think I have a spare one."

"One that will fit? I mean your horse is quite large…"

"I have one that Stranger grew out of a long time ago, it should fit this mare."

He weaved in an out, his hand clenched around the horse's rein; soldiers parted from them, each one wary of the Hound and didn't question him as to why he was with the young Lady Stark. Men atop coursers, destriers looked down upon them. But if they did find the whole situation curious, they didn't say anything.

Sandor led them to another cart; this one was laden down with various bits of junk and rubbish. Broken kettles, pots, pans, everything broken could be found in the cart. He handed Tarynn the reins before jumping up onto the cart, sifting through the bits and pieces. A few moments passed before he lifted up a saddle, triumphant.

It was cracked and worn, gilded spirals decorated its surface. Sandor leant down, handing it to her. It was heavy and it took all of her upper arm strength to stop it from falling down onto the muddy ground. Sandor jumped down from off the cart with a grunt, he flexed the muscles in his arms before rolling his neck which cracked with an audible pop. He took the saddle off of Tarynn before putting it on the white horse and fastening the straps. He gave it a sure, hard jerk before deeming it safe to ride with.

He gestured to Tarynn to come nearer to him, "You know I could have just asked my father for a saddle."

"But this one's vintage." He patted it, "Consider it a gift, a symbol of our friendship."

She smiled, and Sandor lifted her by the waist, helping her onto the horse. She sorted her skirts before picking up the reins again; the mare neighed softly, snorting into the air.

"Thank you Sandor."

"There you go again, I'm just doing my job."

"I'm a job now am I?"

"Well saving you seems to be becoming a full time occupation. You and your fucking problems." His voice, although low and rough held no traces of enmity.

"I know, I'm just one big problem," She sighed. "I need to find father, tell him I'm awake and fine."

"Your father was quite worried about you, as was your little sister."

"Who Sansa?"

"No the other one… Arla?"

"Arya."

"Yes, the little one who seems to like to play with sharpened sticks."

"Well I must get back to them… Sandor?"

The Hound looked at her, his grey eyes betraying nothing, "What?"

Tarynn's question caught in her throat, she couldn't ask him, not now. "Nothing, don't worry. I hope you enjoy the rest of your morning off."

"Just keep out of trouble wolf."

They parted, she watched as Sandor Clegane weaved between the soldiers on horseback and the carts. He didn't look back once. Tarynn urged her horse forward, falling into step with those riding beside her. Now she had to present herself to her father, and to have him chastise her for reckless behaviour concerning the Wilding band.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for reviews and story alerts that have been popping up constantly in my inbox. Means a lot. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to update regularly but things have gotten very busy. However this chapter is quite long, over five thousand words, so enjoy and drop a review. It would be greatly appreciated.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 11.

She pushed through the line of guards, her borrowed horse was a kind temperate creature but she had no issue in snapping her teeth at the grey stallion beside her. Tarynn tugged lightly on the reins and ran her fingers through the coarse white hair of her steed. She looked to the guard next to her, about to shoot an apologetic look on behalf of her mount but she froze up as she turned to the man.

He must have been only a few short years older then her, he had a fine bone structure, deep green eyes the colour of the darkest leaves and bright blonde hair which flowed unkempt to his cheeks. One side of his hair was pushed back behind his ear, the other dangled, lifting up every so often by a particularly strong breeze. She didn't believe in fairy tales, or the concept of beautiful princesses and princes. But if she did, she would have imagined the Prince to have looked like the guard sat astride his horse beside her. He grinned, care free and lazy. She shook her head and the spell that had caused her to freeze broke. She wasn't going to be as easily swayed by looks like Sansa was. If she had been like that then she would have agreed to Theon marrying her years ago. She politely smiled in return and patted her horses' neck, an apologetic gesture that was supposed to have been conveyed a good few minutes ago. She went to move on, gripping the reins again tightly when he spoke to her.

"It's quite alright; she seems quite feisty, which isn't a bad thing by any means. They won't balk from a battle field if they have a little spirit." He reached over, stroking the same spot that Tarynn had just patted. "I've seen you around, Lady Stark."

She was at a disadvantage; the boy with the forest green eyes looked sideways at her, one of his lazy grins parting his lips, daring her to ignore him. There was something about him that intrigued her, but at the same time reminded her of Theon, and just the thought of that repulsed her.

"No doubt you have, but I feel that I am at a disadvantage, you know me but I don't know who you are." She scrutinized him, she had seen his face before but she couldn't quite place it.

"Everyone knows the great Lady Tarynn Stark who rode down a wilding." He righted himself again in his saddle, brushing his hair back behind his ear. She clenched her fists and then unclenched them.

_He is just a mere guard; he should not be addressing me in such a manner... Oh Tarynn listen to you! I am turning into the very person I have always hated, speak to the guards there is no harm in it; I speak to the Hound freely enough._

There was a niggling thought in the back of her head though, the Hound was still part of the nobility, and he had a house and lands. True he did guard Prince Joffrey but he was still heir to an estate should his brute of a brother ever unfortunately die.

"I see... May I ask your name?"

"Seems only fair," He had a cocky edge to his voice and his eyes glinted in the pale sunlight, the easy smile was still on his face. "Hill. Tobias Hill. But most people call me Toby. I would be honoured Lady Tarynn if you would also fall into that category."

_Hill? Hill. He's a bastard of the Westerlands._

"Tobias Hill, that's an interesting name."

"As is Tarynn Stark, am I allowed to call you Tarynn? I feel we have reached that stage of our relationship already."

_He is quite forward, almost too confident for a bastard and a guard._

"I'm afraid that I cannot allow it."

The grin faltered slightly, "Shame, I was hoping we could be friends."

"We can still be friends; you would just have to address me as Lady Tarynn... Where are you from Toby?"

"Me? I was born at Casterly Rock, the seat of the mighty Lannisters." He laughed, his hand falling onto the pommel of his sword, "I guess you've worked it out by now?"

"I surmised, I didn't know if it was true or not."

"Well it is. I am a bastard of Casterly Rock, with golden hair like a lion's mane eyes the colour of the greenest emerald."

"So your sire..."

"A Lannister yes, not telling you which though, that would spoil things." He laughed again, and Tarynn was perturbed at how easily he accepted this, Jon had moped around days on end if anyone had mentioned his lineage. Perhaps accepting your bastard status got better with age, she hoped so for Jon's sake. She smiled despite herself. There was something liberating about the man, he reminded her of a small child. Never took anything to heart, took it all in stride. For days now she had surrounded herself with gloomy and depressed people, the Hound wasn't the exactly the most jovial of characters. Even she had felt unbearable sadness pushing down on her heart. Perhaps Toby was what she needed, a little bit of light in an impenetrable darkness. "Do you know what," He twisted his body around to look at her full on, "When you're thinking of something you're brow furrows with concentration. You get this line," He gestured to his own forehead, his fingertip sliding down the gap between his eyes, "Right here."

She nodded, "My mother tells me not to do it, says that I'll get wrinkles prematurely, but it's just a habit I suppose… Please excuse me Toby I have some important business that I need to attend to."

His tone was filled with friendly mocking, "You're excused Lady Tarynn. I'll save you a spot at dinner." He winked and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She wasn't a complete stranger to attention from men but she had never met a man so forward, especially one who was below her in hierarchy. She snapped her reins, spurring her steed on and away from the grinning fool with his glowing mane of golden hair and sparkling green eyes.

When she reached the front of the entourage, the first thing she noticed was Arya, sitting atop a small pony. She had a wooden sword in her grip and was swinging it without aim beside her, hacking the top of any bushes that may stray into the swords path. Tarynn had not spoken to Arya since they had left Winterfell, and she felt that she was neglecting her sisterly duties.

"Arya!"

The small, skinny girl twisted round to see who called her name, when her eyes settled on Tarynn she waved the sword that was still in her grip. Tarynn rode over to her, reaching out between them and squeezing her baby sister's arm, "Are you alright Arya? How has the journey been for you so far?"

Arya took a deep breath, and Tarynn knew that there would be a something on how much she hated… "Joffrey and Sansa, I HATE them."

"Arya please, you do not hate your sister and the future King."

"Yes I do. What do you know? You weren't made to sit in that Wheelhouse with them for two days. I had to beg father practically everyday to let me ride."

Tarynn smiled knowingly, "What did he make you give up?"

Arya hung her head, "Nymeria, she is to ride in one of the wagons with Lady."

Tarynn's mind flashed with panic.

"Arya have you seen Tome?"

The little girl looked up, a puzzled look upon her face, "Tome? No. The last time I saw him he was stalking that Hound. You know the scary man with the messed up face? Joffrey's guard dog. I say let Tome eat the hideous…"

"Arya enough." Tarynn's word sliced through the air, and Arya spat back.

"Just because mother isn't here doesn't mean you can act like her."

Arya dug her heels into the pony and it started off in a slow trot. Tarynn made no move to follow her or apologise, Arya had spoken out of turn about a man who had never touched her or even affected her. Tarynn gazed after her littlest sister, she began to worry about the fragile relationship they had. Surprisingly Tarynn was much closer to Sansa; perhaps it was because even though they had different illusions in life they had the same mannerisms. Both were capable of bold acts and speaking out but at the same time they had a kind and docile temperament.

Arya also acted like a boy most of the time, thanks to Jon Snow's influence, and Tarynn had never quite gotten the concept of womanhood through to Arya. Sure Tarynn wasn't the most girly of people but she still wore dresses and certainly did not fight like Arya did. She had tried archery before, in fact Ser Jory Cassel and Theon, not that Theon's opinion matter much, had both said that she had potential. Perhaps she should take it up again.

Her mind, on its epic journey of jumping from one subject matter to another turned to what had originally caused her to make the tedious journey to the front of the train. Her father and her chastisement that was inevitable. She shuddered at the thought of being humiliated in front of the King and his Kingsguard, also in front of that brat Joffrey who would no doubt tease her endlessly over it.

She took in a deep lungful of air and pushed her steed into a hard canter, the sooner she got there, the quicker the telling off would be done and dusted. She heard the King before she saw him, which was quite a feat on his part because he was so large. His deep laughter resonated through the air, bouncing through the atmosphere on invisible waves. Or so Maester Luwin had said, something about sound waves, which Tarynn was hard pressed to believe.

_Oh Maester Luwin how I miss you, and Gerta._

She touched the shard of dragonglass and locket that hung around her neck, both pendants were smooth and cool. The jagged end of the dragonglass had been dipped in silver so that it didn't cut the wearer. She stroked them three times, for luck and strength and prayed quickly to the old Gods before allowing the pendants to fall back against the space between her collarbones.

She could hear the King before she could see him, which was quite a feat for someone of his girth. She felt sorry for his horse, which lumbered along with King Robert's heavy mass on its back. Her father was beside him; they were laughing and bantering together like small children apart from the conversation was much more mature, but only just. They had been comparing the amount of men they had killed; searching through the memories of yester years to catalogue the lives they had took when she had rode up beside her father.

"Father I…"

Her father didn't acknowledge her straight away, the conversation and laughing that had been going on a few seconds ago stopped and the King rode off slightly, to allow Ned Stark to deal with his eldest daughter. He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, contemplating what he should do as a punishment for his daughter's recklessness.

"I pray to the Gods, thanking them that you're alive." He still had his eyes closed, "What were you thinking, you put your life at risk just so you could jump over a log?" She flinched; her father had never had to tell her off, a couple of 'Don't do that' or 'Tarynn' said in a tone that spoke of warning, but he had never been truly disappointed with her. "Those wildings could have killed you Tarynn; I could've been burying you…" He opened his eyes, staring straight ahead, "I have half a mind to appoint a guard to watch you."

She looked down, reaching out and twiddling with the mane of her horse, she didn't say anything, and there was silence between father and daughter for a while as both thought. Finally, Lord Eddard broke the quiet atmosphere.

"But I won't. I won't because I know you've learnt your lesson. Recklessness must be a Stark trait. Go, we'll discuss the matter further if we must, but for now I must attend to the King…" Tarynn let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, "Oh and by the way Sansa has been asking after you, I suggest you go see her before she starts to throw a fit. She's becoming quite the little madam." Her father dug his heels into his steed slightly and galloped off, leaving her behind with her thoughts.

_I expected him to be angrier to be honest. But I'm glad that he didn't feel the need to humiliate me in front of the King and his guards, I'm already looked at as it is for killing a man. I don't want whispers going around about me being chastised publicly by my father._

The wheelhouse rumbled up beside her, the driver was a bored man with a brown moustache, over his shoulders he wore a crimson cloak; he was a Lannister. The wheels creaked as it moved, making the whole contraption slightly on the precarious side. She called out to the driver.

"Is Sansa Stark inside?"

The man yelled back, his tongue was dripping with the accent of the Westerlands, "Whose asking?"

"Lady Tarynn Stark, Sansa's oldest sister."

"Oh my Lady, beg your pardon I…"

"Please, just tell me if my sister is in there, it's no trouble."

"Lady Stark went with Prince Joffrey for a walk."

"With whose consent?"

"Our gracious Queen's."

He spoke slightly louder, making a show of praising Cersei who was no doubt swaddled in furs and cloaks with her babes, Tommen and Myrcella.

_Those two children are so sweet; it's a shame that their elder brother and mother aren't._

"Thank you." The man nodded and she rode off to the edge of the road, scanning the surrounding area for any sign of Sansa or Joffrey. She was annoyed with the queen, considering all the trouble with the wildings recently Tarynn thought that Cersei would have more sense.

_Seems that her head is filled with straw the same colour as her hair, Joffrey and Sansa are children, they shouldn't be out and about alone._

She stood slightly in her stirrups; the sun was shining brighter as the day neared its noon. She cupped her hand over her eyes and looked out towards the rolling hills; there was a wood, a few leagues away that stretched out along the King's Road the closer they got to the Neck and the Twins. She secretly prayed that Joffrey had half a brain not to go in there with Sansa.

She wheeled her horse around, and rode down towards the end of the train, she wanted to find Bronte and enlist her in helping Tarynn find her missing sister.

_I don't trust Joffrey as far as I can throw him, what if he takes advantage of Sansa?_

Thoughts like that did not sit well with Tarynn, she urged her horse into a canter; riding down the edge of the King's road away from the foot traffic and wagons that were currently monopolizing the cobblestone track. She got a couple of looks, primarily from the gold cloaks and servants who were guiding the wagons and carts down the bumpy path but she brushed it off. She needed to find Bronte or perhaps Arya again. But after their small spat earlier it was hard to imagine that Arya was going to forgive her anytime soon, Arya could keep up a sulk for an inhumanely long time.

She slowed as she neared the end of the baggage train, Teddy who had given her the white steed was no longer leading his pack of horses, instead another boy sat astride the pony attached to all the other horses. She whirled her horse around, planning in her head to loop around the back of the horses and up the other side of the entourage, towards the front. If she could not find Sansa in the time that it took her to ride to the King and her father then she would tell her father that Sansa cannot be found anywhere. She was just about to put her plan into action when she heard giggling.

"Oh your Grace you are ever so brave."

She approached the boy, "Please, hold my horse for a short while, I have a matter to attend to."

The boy leapt at her command, mumbling "Yes my Lady." Before reaching for her reins and clutching them in his fist as she dismounted her horse.

"Thank you."

She lifted up her skirts before making her way to the side of a wagon, sure enough she found her sister, sitting on the back of the wagon. Joffrey was walking behind it, a rueful grin covering his face.

"This one fiend he tried to come up behind me…"

"I do apologise if I'm interrupting, but I have been looking for you everywhere Sansa."

The two children, for that was what they were, looked at her.

"Tarynn!" Sansa squealed, leaping daintily off the back of the cart and rushed towards her elder sister, "I visited you everyday, and prayed to the Seven that you would be returned to us. I am so glad that you are alright." She wrapped her arms around her older sister and all the anger that Tarynn had towards the fact that the Queen had allowed Sansa to go off alone with Joffrey dissipated as she stroked her little sister's auburn hair.

"I have missed you too San, but I'm much better and we can return to working on our embroidery together soon."

"I have done a few squares while you were asleep but not a…"

There was a cough and the two sisters ended their embrace, their attentions turned towards the Prince. He was a handsome boy, that was not debateable, what were in question were his personality and his unhealthy attachment to his mother.

Joffrey made a gesture with his hand, indicating silently the situation and the fact that he was of royal blood.

Tarynn curtseyed, and Sansa followed suit, "Do forgive us your Grace, I quite forgot my manners."

Joffrey did another little wave of his hand, "As long as you don't forget next time."

Tarynn made a mental note of getting someone to teach her archery as soon as possible. She smiled through gritted teeth and the sound of a series of trumpets filled the air. 1 blast meant that they were to stop for the night, 2 for luncheon or supper and 3 if there was any trouble such as brigands or mercenaries blocking the way forth. It was 2 short blasts and there was a period of utter silence when everyone waited for a third to come. It didn't and there was a tangible aura of relief as wagons stopped in their tracks and guards leapt off their horses, tethering them to whatever cart was nearby. The men and servants in this part of the entourage scattered, searching for cook fires to share and food and ale to pass around.

"Sansa we need to return to father for lunch…"

"Your Grace." A deep, gravelly voice appeared out of nowhere behind Tarynn and Sansa, Sansa was the first to turn and look at the person who had also hunted down the two stray children but Tarynn recognised the voice without the need to look. "Your father wishes you to come for lunch." Sansa pressed further into Tarynn's side, clutching at Tarynn's dress. The Hound moved nearer to them, and Tarynn could have sworn that he looked at her, even for just a brief moment.

"Ah Hound, please permit me to also escort my betrothed, and Lady Tarynn back to my father." Sandor merely grunted, folding his arms over his chest. "Dog, allow me to choose my dear Sansa a horse." He held out his hand to Sansa.

Sansa looked at Tarynn for confirmation, and Tarynn gave a small curt nod, she disliked Joffrey but Sansa would still need a horse and she wanted to talk to Sandor for a moment in privacy.

Sansa accepted Joffrey's hand and the two 'lovebirds' made their way to the boy who kept the horses; Tarynn turned her attentions to Sandor Clegane.

"I thought today was your day off?"

"It was, but the sun is fast heading towards its highest peak. I only got the morning to do what I wanted."

Tarynn peered into the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun's blinding rays, "So it is…"

He moved closer, his scent almost overpowering her as his calloused hand took her smooth one, "We near King's Landing."

"Yes we do." Her voice possessed hints of breathlessness; she could feel her body begin to grow weak.

The Hound's lips were near her ear, the spicy scent of wine was on his breath, "I made a promise that I would keep you safe, and I intend to keep it. But I can't keep every nasty fucker away from you, so please make sure you take the necessary precautions." He stepped away, the loss of his warmth caused Tarynn to shudder, "We must make our way to the King." Tarynn gently stretched her neck, standing almost on tiptoes to kiss Sandor's cheek. It was rough with stubble as her lips pressed against his hot skin. His voice was husky, "Don't tease me Tarynn, I am a lesser man."

Her voice was a whisper, "I am merely presenting you my gratitude." She moved away, putting a good few metres between her and the Hound, "Sansa and Prince Joffrey are surely waiting for us."

He nodded, his grey eyes shining.

* * *

They rode in silence back towards the front of the train; Tarynn pondered the amount of times she had been up and down the train of people. Thankfully the entourage had rolled to a standstill due to the fact that it was noon and the majority of the party were eating. She caught a glimpse of Toby as she rode past, he gave her a wave and she lifted her hand in response, a smile automatically spreading like wildfire across her face. He was so carefree and happy; it was a marked contrast to the Hound's dark and mournful personality. Slowing down to a trot and allowing the others to continue galloping ahead, she watched as Toby lifted up what looked to be a chicken leg, before patting the spot beside him; a gesture that she should go and sit with him. She smiled graciously before shaking her head, mouthing the words 'no, but thank you'. Toby shrugged and mouthed back; 'Another time perhaps'. She snapped her reins and rode fast and hard to catch up with Sansa, Joffrey and the Hound.

Toby seems to forget the difference in our statuses. I am highborn, he is a bastard. We can never become too close, it is simply not allowed.

When they reached the front, a table had been laid out. One of those contraptions that could fold down into a small square of wood with its legs all bunched together. At the end of the table was King Robert, majestic but gravely overweight, he was reaching for a portion of potatoes when they rode up. To the left of him was his Queen, Cersei, a member of House Lannister. To his right, Eddard Stark, Tarynn's father. Further down the table were Myrcella and Tommen, both sitting on the Queen's side, Arya sat opposite Tommen. Tarynn dismounted and handed her steed to a servant boy who stood as still as an iron fence post before sitting down beside her father. Sansa followed suit, occupying the empty seat in-between Tarynn and Arya, whilst Joffrey sat opposite Tarynn. They had effectively sorted themselves out into the two houses presiding over the journey south; tension ran thick in the air.

"So what trouble have you been getting yourself into lad?"

The King's question was directed at Joffrey but before the golden haired boy could answer his mother had interrupted him.

"Well he hasn't ridden over a wilding that's for sure." Her voice was icy cold and filled with contempt, she lifted a fork of green beans to her lips delicately. The anger within Tarynn bristled; Cersei's remark had been aimed at her.

"Quiet woman, I was asking my boy not you."

"I took Sansa sightseeing, to the other parts of the entourage."

"Aye, young love." Robert Baratheon laughed turning to Eddard Stark, "Seems that as soon as Sansa is ready, we can wed these two and our houses will be joined forever more, eh Ned?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"Please, I can't stand it when you refer to me as 'your majesty' we've know each other for a long time you shouldn't have to…"

Queen Cersei interrupted once again, "Please my sweet you are the King it is only proper that everyone, regardless of rank or personal attachment should refer to you as something suitable due to your status."

The King ignored her, and Tarynn watched with rapture as Cersei seemed to sink back into her chair once she realised that she wasn't going to be acknowledge.

"So Ned, what are you going to do about your eldest? Surely she should have been married by now." Robert's eyes were on her, a grin on his podgy face, "She looks very much like Lyanna, don't you think?"

Her father also turned to her, he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "My sister is dead Robert, and Tarynn is whoever she wants to be." He turned back to the King and Tarynn sliced of a piece of venison, bringing the succulent meat to her lips, "We are waiting for the right moment and I suppose the right man with good healthy ties and agreements before we force Tarynn into marriage."

"What about a Tyrell?" Robert leant forward, creating a steeple out of his fat fingers.

"As I said we are going to discuss it more in depth once we reach King's Landing."

"I hear the eldest Tyrell isn't married yet… Or perhaps you could… Yes!" The King brought his fist down hard on the table, causing everyone to jump apart from Ned. "Marry her to Renly!"

_Why can't they just leave well enough alone?_

She looked up, catching the Hound's eye. He didn't move, nor did the expression on his face change. He continued staring at her, his burnt side a gruesome contrast to his other.

"A perfect arrangement and Renly is only a few years older than Tarynn… What are you my girl, eighteen?"

"I am your Grace."

"Well then there you have it Ned, marry her to Renly and strengthen our ties even more!"

Tarynn looked up at her father panicked; she had never met Renly before, and had only heard whisperings of him. The latest one was that he didn't really fight on the same side so to speak. Ned's voice was cool when he responded to Robert's suggestion.

"I hope you will allow me to play matchmaker for my daughter. Robert I will consider your suggestion but Cat and I have already discussed the decision should ultimately be Tarynn's." Her father turned to look at her again, "Obviously that decision has to be within reason. And after the trouble we had with the suggested betrothal of Theon Greyjoy and Tarynn, we don't really want to cause our daughter anymore unhappiness. But like I said, I will write to Catelyn and discuss the prospect with Tarynn about Renly."

"Good man! Renly is in King's Landing as we speak so you will have plenty of time to get to know him Tarynn, although he hardly ever seems to be own his own. That Loras Tyrell chap forever seems to be shadowing him. Ah well that's a case of loyalty to the extremes."

A silence ensued as Robert proceeded to rip of the flesh of a chicken bone with his teeth in an animalistic way. Sansa whispered to Tarynn.

"I've heard tales about Renly, he's supposed to be very handsome."

"I am not interested in looks little sister, only personality."

"Yes. Otherwise you would have married Theon."

"Sansa…"

"All I'm saying is that you didn't really think it through, you would have been married to the man who is heir to the Iron Islands."

"Sansa you are thirteen, please allow me to make my own judgements and mistakes."

"But what if you end up like that Brienne of Tarth?" _Ah so that's what that woman fighter's name was. _"She is unmarried, and no man will ever look at her. Or so that's what Ser Jory tells me."

"I will marry Sansa, I'll have to, but for now I will enjoy not having to wait around on an obnoxious husband." Tarynn sighed and took a sip of the deep red wine that she had been served. Another servant came along and laid down a platter piled high with soft yellow cakes. "Sansa look, lemon cakes."

The girl squealed and clapped her hands before reaching for one of the rich morsels, "I do so love lemon cakes." The sisters laughed whilst Arya looked on, a stony expression painted on her face, Tarynn noticed this.

"Arya, care for one?"

She held out a cake on a small dish, a sort of peace offering to her younger sulky sister.

"No thank you."

Arya stood, threw down her napkin in the most dramatic way possible and stormed off, Tarynn turned to Sansa. "I don't understand what's wrong with her."

"I think she's upset about leaving Winterfell."

"But she wanted to come along. I'm pretty sure she could have stayed at home if she truly wanted to."

_Maybe she misses Jon Snow; she always had a sort of attachment to him._

The conversation about Arya ended however when Sansa turned to talk to Joffrey and Tarynn was forced to make conversation with the Queen.

"So how do you like the south, sweetling?"

The Queen's voice was laced with forced kindness, her brother Jaime loomed over her protectively; Tarynn hadn't noticed him before now.

"Well we can't really say it's the south quite yet, we are only just passing through the Neck now," Queen Cersei's eyes narrowed in a hostile manner, "However the weather is a welcomed relief from the North."

The Queen took a sip from her silver chalice, her words speaking a thousand different meanings, "Just wait until you reach King's Landing, you'll be begging for a reprieve from the heat. I have noticed that when faced with extreme hot weather, people from the north seem to just melt…" Her voice held threatening hints, "Let's see if that's true."


	12. Chapter 12

Hey guys, and it seems I have garnered a few more fans of this story which I am delighted with! Just a little Author's Note. This story isn't perfect, and I'm obviously going to twist certain scenes that happen within the song of Ice and Fire series but I will try and keep it as canon to the plot as possible. This _is _a Sandor oriented romance fanfic and it will gradually turn that way but I have big ideas for this story. Namely the fact that I'm going to split it up. So one story of mine, for every book in the series. How does that sound? I would love your views, whether you like the Toby character, if I'm presenting Sandor and the other characters well. Tobias Hill was literally a spur of the moment character that I wrote in, and there are two directions that I am conflicted over concerning his future. So please tell me what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong. You have my word that this is a Sandor romance and it will get that way, but I want to make my characters more 3-D and personalised before jumping straight in. I don't want to rush it! But this is good news right? You get lots more chapters!

Well that wasn't very short!

So please settle in for the long haul. I will try my hardest to update regularly, and if you have any questions please direct them to my PM so that I can respond directly to you!

Keep safe!

Slightnerdy.

P.S. I apologise for the length of the chapters at the moment, I'm on a mad writing spree!

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 12.

As the King's entourage progressed further into the flat plains of the Trident and the rest of the lowlands, the climate began to change rapidly. Soldiers shed heavy pieces of armor, swapping grey steel for brown leather. Woolen cloaks for cotton. The King ditched his fur cloak, opting to riding in just his silken shirt which always bared large sweat patches whenever his majesty had finished riding for the day.

For the northerners it was harder to adapt to the sudden increase in heat, Tarynn wore the lightest cotton dresses she owned, the next step would have been stripping down naked and lying on a river bank. She couldn't understand how people lived in such a heat. Cersei Lannister thrived in it however, she never seemed to sweat, and there were no tell tale droplets of perspiration that usually signaled the body overheating. She was truly an ice queen if she could keep a constant temperature in such weather.

When the King had called for a camp to be set up Tarynn had been riding beside her father, the queen having summoned Arya and Sansa to join her in the wheelhouse earlier that day. It wasn't said, but it was known that the queen didn't like Tarynn's opinions, and Tarynn was fine with that. It was only noon when the King raised a fat fist towards the sky, a signal that tents should be put up and the wagons unloaded for the night. The trumpet blasts rang through the air as Ned Stark leaned across to his eldest daughter.

"The king wants to go on a hunt. You know what he's like. We'll talk later but for now accompany your sisters and see that they dress adequately for the feast that Robert wants to put on, especially Arya."

"Father?"

"Yes Tarynn?"

Tarynn looked over the landscape towards the river bank. She was planning on telling her father about Theon and his actions but she wasn't sure of what good that would do.

"Nothing, enjoy your hunt."

"Yes, enjoy rounding up your sisters," Her father grinned, and kissed her on the cheek, "Relish the winds, it's much hotter in King's Landing."

Tarynn laughed and watched as her father rode away, raising her hand in a farewell. There was an indignant cough to her left and she caught a glimpse of blonde. Looking in that direction she saw the back of Joffrey as he rode off no doubt towards his dear mother, the Hound followed him on top of his horse Stranger. She smiled shyly at Sandor and he responded with a curt nod. A emotionless mask covering up his true facial expressions.

She patted her steed's neck, before taking hold of the reins firmly in her hands, with a slight kick her horse started off at a trot. She was going to find Ser Jory, and then after that Sansa and Arya.

* * *

By the time that Tarynn reached the wheelhouse, solely for trying to find Sansa, a crowd which had gathered around it had started to disperse. Servants and knights alike swarmed around Tarynn as she pushed to the front. When she broke through the front line of people she saw what all the commotion was about.

Two men stood beside the queen, one was an older man, dressed in the white of the Kingsguard. The other was a tall, broad shouldered man, jet black hair fell to his shoulders and he was dressed in dark green enameled armor.

"Yes, like I said Robert has gone on a hunt, Lord Stark has accompanied him."

"And the Stark girl who just went off with Prince Joffrey, she is the middle child?"

"Middle daughter," Cersei smiled and Tarynn instantly grew wary of her, "Lord Stark has fathered many children, his youngest is just three."

They had still not noticed her standing on the edge of their visions.

"And the eldest?" It was the man in the green armor and the stag helmet under his arm that asked this question. "I mean just out of curiosity, the eldest was born just before the war ended yes?" The man grinned, perfect white teeth flashing.

"The eldest Stark is…"

"Eighteen," Tarynn stepped forward, interrupting Cersei Lannister's answer. "And I would be glad to answer anymore questions that you have on my family gentlemen."

The man in the white knelt for a split second before standing again. "Lady Tarynn, I am Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard."

She could feel Cersei seething with anger but when Tarynn glimpsed up at her, her face was a mask of stone.

"Well met Ser Barristan, I have heard many tales of your ventures in battles."

The man in green stepped forward, and Tarynn almost forgot proper courtesy. She held out her hand and the man with the stag helm took it lifting it to his lips.

"My Lady, I am Lord Renly Baratheon, brother to King Robert and the rightful Lord of Storm's End."

_So this is the famous Renly. He's not all that much, he's almost a tad feminine despite his heritage and armor._

Before Tarynn could respond Cersei's voice floated through the air. It was obvious that she was struggling to contain tones of contempt, "We were talking about you just the other day Renly."

Renly flashed an easy smile, his eyes lingering on Tarynn before they shifted back to Cersei, "Well I am one to talk about. What other plots does my brother have in store for me?"

"Marriage."

The way Cersei said it, so blunt and indifferent caused Tarynn to open her mouth slightly in shock, she looked between the queen and her brother in law noting how Renly's carefree smile seemed to slip off his face the instant Cersei uttered the word.

"Marriage? Why Robert really does know how to throw people. If you would excuse me."

Renly left, sweeping past Tarynn as he headed towards a group of horses that were held in place by a…

The man's face was pockmarked, with deep set eyes and a menacing countenance. A shiver ran up Tarynn's spine and a feeling of dread filled every fibre of her feeling. She did not like this man, and she was definite in her opinion.

She drew her eyes from the shadowy man and turned back to the queen, "Do you think it was your place to tell Renly of plans that don't concern you?"

The queen looked as if she had been slapped, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, "How dare you…"

"No how dare you. I am not the one who's going to be yelled at in front of a few powerful Lords once King Robert returns. You had no right, and the plans haven't even been set in stone."

"Do not talk to me in that tone child."

"I am not a child, your _Grace_, so please don't talk to me as if I was one. You know what you've done."

Tarynn turned on her heel, a sort of thrill running through her as she left the queen standing beside her precious wheelhouse, a look of utter surprise on her face. Ser Selmy did not say anything, neither had he intervened. Perhaps Tarynn was going to have more influence over proceedings then she had first thought of. No doubt the queen would tell Robert, and Robert relay information to Tarynn's father but Tarynn was well within her right to be annoyed. The talk of marriage didn't just concern Renly, it also concerned Tarynn as well.

* * *

Tarynn lay in the shade of a tent, the sun was just setting. Spreading pink tendrils across a dimming sky, orange hues danced across the green walls of her tent, casting a strange light over the objects within it. It was scarcely decorated, there was no point, tomorrow servants would come and pack it all away and they would continue the journey to King's Landing. The capital of Westeros was less then a week's ride away, and with every step they took towards the magnificent seat of western power, Tarynn grew more excited. Tome was stretched out beside her; he was quite large now, almost coming to her waist. He was much larger than Lady and Nymeria and so Tarynn had surmised that male direwolves must be bigger than their female counterparts. His head was resting on his paws but his bright blue eyes were wide open as Tarynn read to him from the book she was reading.

"And that was when Bodahnn, the wilding betrayed his sisters, giving them up to the men who roamed the south as an offering, hoping that they would not hunt him down and slice his belly into chunks of bloody flesh before feeding it to the crows… This book is very graphic, isn't it Tome."

The wolf whined in return, lifting his head and settling it down on Tarynn's stomach. She laughed and scratched behind her companion's ears.

"Ah Tome, I don't know what I would do without you."

Tarynn snapped the book shut and put it down beside her; she sighed, and looked out through the tent flap. Opposite hers was Sansa's, a bright yellow one which the setting sun was currently caressing with its light. Besides Sansa's was Arya's, and to the left of Tarynn's tent was her father's. A guard of two men were patrolling the area, they switched shifts during the night whilst the tents' inhabitants slept on, blissfully unaware of any troubles that may have arisen in the black of night.

She sat up, and Tome moved off, slinking away towards the open tent flap before returning to Tarynn.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He whined in return, pawing at Tarynn's skirts, "Only for a short while mind, the horn for supper will sound fairly soon."

She stood, sorting out her crumpled skirts. She picked up a light cloak from where she had dumped it earlier on the end of the bed, before accompanying Tome out of the tent that was her temporary home. She pulled the tent flap down, and took a right, following the line of tents towards the small woods that surrounded this part of the river. Several guards nodded at her as they walked past, but no one spoke a word. Birds chirped in the trees and Tarynn felt an inner peace as she walked along, stroking Tome's head in an absent minded manner. When she reached the forest edge she turned back towards the temporary encampment, her eyes darting over the soldiers that stood guard as servants pulled up more tents. A string of children, the sons and daughters of the servants who had no one else to look after them back in King's Landing ran among the men, laughter floating around them. She caught sight of one of the soldiers overlooking the raising of the tents, his golden hair drifted in the wind; his green eyes glinted in the disappearing sunlight. He raised a hand, a smile stretching over his face, white teeth showing. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked down before looking back up. Toby was still staring at her, it had been a fair few days since they had first spoken and they hadn't said another word to one another since. Impulsion caused her to gesture with her hand, a signal that he should accompany her and Tome on their walk. If anyone came across them the excuse was simple, Tarynn had felt unsafe alone in the woods due to all she had been through and so had asked the nearest soldier to accompany her, the nearest being Toby.

He rested his hand on another soldier's shoulder, saying something before pointing at Tarynn who was standing just beneath the canopy of trees. The other guard nodded, before barking another order at one of the soldiers. Toby strode away, walking towards Tarynn and away from the rest of his fellows.

"I'm glad you asked me to accompany you Lady Tarynn, watching servants put up tents is quite a boring task. Don't ask me why we have to watch them, but the queen insisted. Perhaps my dear cousin doesn't trust the small folk who wait on her hand and foot. Don't tell her I referred to her as cousin, she'll have my head and I very much like it where it is."

Tarynn was overwhelmed, he was in quite the talkative mood today, and again she made the comparison between Toby's more cheerful and happy go lucky personality and Sandor's more sombre and dismal one. But a daily dose of Toby's optimism couldn't go amiss.

"Don't worry, it's safe with me."

"Ah, now that is a weight off my shoulders. Now tell me Lady Tarynn, how has your day been?"

_Should I answer him truthfully? Tell him about the giddiness I feel whenever I think of the prospect of King's Landing? Of immersing myself in the King's court? Of learning the ins and outs of the city? Of visiting the Maesters' hallowed halls? Cavorting with the finest intellectual minds? No, he will laugh._

"Like any other day, riding and stopping, sight seeing et cetera…"

"And the weather? Your northern blood must be heating up like something frantic in such a heat."

"A little much, but I'm sure that once I get used to it I will be fine."

"You should visit Lannisport… Maybe I'll be lucky enough to take you one day."

There was a silence as his words hung in the world, the likelihood if that happening was extremely slim.

"So tell me Toby," He walked ahead of her slightly, holding up a branch for her so that she didn't get caught in the leaves. She smiled in thanks before passing through, her arm brushing his chest, "Did you grow up in Lannisport?"

"No, I lived with the rest of my family in Casterly Rock. I don't know what it's like with bastards where you are from, but in the south we're not looked upon favourably. I'm lucky that my father died when he did, and that he was favoured by his brothers."

"So your father…"

"You really are quite intrigued by my ancestry aren't you, well there's no point in keeping it from you any longer. You'd find out about it at some point any way. My father is Gerion Lannister, or rather was. He was a boy himself when I was born, I remember him though, he was always full of life and never rose to his brothers' challenges." Toby sighed and walked on ahead slightly, Tome and Tarynn followed him as he carved a path through the forest. "After he left to recover some ancient artefact, my uncle Kevan took me in. I grew up alongside his own sons. I count myself lucky to be honest…"

"Toby?"

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Please," She took his hand in hers, holding it tightly, "Call me Tarynn."

Toby didn't grin, or smile, or really acknowledge what she had said. A few moments passed, silence again covering them, before he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss on the back of her hand. "Thank you."

"I have a bastard brother Toby, his name is Jon… I never treated him kindly…"

_Is it guilt making me kind to Toby? Am I trying to make up for the wrongs I committed against Jon?_

"I find that it's hard for those whose parentage is legitimate to understand those who parentage isn't. Your brother most likely understands that, the next time you see him…"

"He's taking the black. I don't think I'll ever seem him again."

"Don't say ever, you will one day."

He let go of her hand, and she went past him. Tome however stayed behind, abandoning his mistress in favour of Toby, who he nuzzled with his snout, sniffing him.

"Seems your wolf has taken a liking to me."

"Yes, which is strange; he's not the friendliest of creatures." She knelt, "Are you Tome?"

The dark brown direwolf cocked his head, his inquisitive blue eyes fixed on her for a few seconds before he bounded towards her, his tongue lolling like that of a dog. She laughed, and rubbed his head with the palm of her hand before standing. Her eyes settled on Toby's face. His green eyes were fixed on hers. She looked away, breaking the moment, turning away and delving deeper into the forest.

"Do you have any siblings Toby?"

"One, a younger sister who was born ten years after my own birth, her name is Joy."

"Is she still at Casterly Rock?"

"Yes she is, little madam though, always begging me to bring stuff back for her from King's Landing whenever I visit her."

"So do you not know your mother?"

"I've heard rumours over who it could be, but nothing substantial, the idiots who were part of my uncle's guard used to tease me over it."

"I can't imagine not knowing my mother."

"You get used to it, I'm lucky I had my father for as long as I did, Joy hardly remembers him or her mother." A horn sounded somewhere in the distant, the sign that the King was hungry and ready for dinner. "I'm lucky today."

Toby's grin was huge; he reached up brushing as strand of blonde hair out of his eyes.

She laughed, "Why?"

"I have been invited to eat with you; my cousin Jaime has requested my presence at the table."

"Are you close to the Kingslay – I mean Jaime?"

"He's my favourite cousin, and I am his. So yes I suppose, he taught me how to swing a sword."

"Does the Queen…"

"Cersei? She doesn't like anyone, but it's not really her decision, Jaime asked the King and the King granted his permission."

"Well then, we must be heading back, I need to change out of my riding gear, and into something more suitable for dinner."

Toby flashed a suggestive grin at her, "Why? You look beautiful as you are."

Tarynn blushed, looking down at the ground, "Thank you."

"You're most welcome, now please; allow me to return you to your tent."

As they neared the tent, Tome ran on ahead, pawing open the tent flap before disappearing inside, leaving Tarynn and Toby alone.

"I'll see you at dinner then."

"Yes you will."

Toby leant forward and Tarynn froze, her words came tumbling out of her mouth, "Toby, please I…"

"Hush", He kissed her on the cheek, "I'm not going to take advantage of you."

He smiled, and she smiled in return, but there was one problem.

_He's a bastard, and a Lannister one at that. Plus… What about Sandor?_

He turned away, walking off towards where the soldiers' tents were situated. She turned too, grasping the tent flap and pulling it aside. Tome laid sprawled on the pile of cushions that made up her bed.

"Oh Tome." She collapsed beside her beloved companion, "What am I to do? How do I attract the wrong men? What is it with me? I don't even like the idea of romance and love! What am I doing?" Tome whined, looking at her with sympathetic eyes. "They both must realise what cannot be, I am destined to marry someone with a house and connections. I am a mere pawn in the grand scheme of things! I won't be surprised that by this time next year I would have been bedded and already be swollen with child, what am I to do?"

She buried her face in Tome's soft fur, her sobs escaping her.

"My Lady?"

Tarynn looked up, "Oh Bronte, I… Please, is that my dress?"

In Bronte's hands was a dress the colour of deep wine. "Yes, a gift, from Queen Cersei, since your last one ripped during the wilding attack."

"Oh that was very kind of her, please, come in and help me."

Bronte set to work, the slender girl filled the wash basin with fresh water that had been left outside the tent and as Tarynn washed her face, Bronte searched through chests for clean undergarments and jewellery. After a little while Tarynn was fully dressed and ready to go to dinner.

"Is my father sending anyone to escort me Bronte, do you know?"

"I don't think so…"

"Tarynn?"

It was her father's voice, sounding outside the tent flap. "Father, please come in."

Her father lifted the tent door, stooping slightly in order to admit himself into the tent, "I decided to come escort my daughters personally to dinner but for the life of me I can't find Arya anywhere. Have you seen her?"

The tent flap opened again, Sansa pushed inside, "Father please let me explain."

"Sansa? What…" Ned Stark grasped his middle daughter's arms, "Are you alright."

"Its Arya father, she ran off into the woods with her wolf. I don't know where, Joffrey and I were just…"

Eddard gently pushed Sansa towards Tarynn, exchanging a look with his eldest daughter, "Tarynn look after Sansa, I am going to find Arya, she can't have gone far."

"Father please allow me…"

"No, Tarynn stay here and keep Sansa with you, I must find Robert and gather my guard, Arya must still be within the woods and the sun has almost finished setting. You girl, run to Ser Jory, tell him to assemble my men and to start the search at once."

Bronte scrambled off, her blond hair flying behind her.

"The queen will see to it that you will have something to eat." Her father brushed aside the tent, disappearing from their view, Tarynn turned to Sansa.

"Sansa what happened?"

"I don't know it all happened so quickly…"

"We have time, tell me."

"Joffrey and I we were walking alongside one of the banks of the Trident, he had wine…"

"Wine?"

"He told me that I was his queen and that I could drink whatever I wanted."

"Sansa…"

"And we heard fighting; it was Arya and the butcher's boy. The rest happened so quickly but Nymeria… Nymeria bit Joffrey and then Arya ran off."

"Is that everything?

"Yes, I… I think so."

"Father's going to ask you what happened, so you have to tell him everything you just told me, when they bring Arya back… Is Joffrey hurt badly?"

"No, but he started to cry…"

Tarynn repressed the urge to grin, if Nymeria was here in the tent she would have praised her for trying to maim the brat of a prince.

"The Hound wasn't with you?"

"No, the queen sent him away."

"Where? Do you know Sansa?"

"I don't… Why are you so interested in the Hound Tarynn?"

"Because Sansa, if the Hound had been there this wouldn't have happened so in the long run it was Queen Cersei's fault for not making sure that his royal son was protected properly."

"Oh no it's not the queen's fault she's wonderful! It was Arya's." Tarynn repressed the urge to tell Sansa otherwise about the queen. "What will they do to Nymeria Tarynn?"

Tarynn looked over at Tome, who was sat near the tent flap, his ears pricked up, "I don't know Sansa, but I don't think the outcome will be good."

Over the course of the next few hours, a servant came to the sisters with food and drink and they sat together eating within the confines of Tarynn's tent. They also worked on the embroidery they had started in Winterfell, chatting aimlessly over numerous topics; a favourite was what they were going to do once they reached King's Landing.

Sansa's head was filled with tourneys and balls, whilst Tarynn expressed a desire to visit the different parts of the famous city and meet with the Maesters and other great thinkers. It wasn't until the moon had raised high in the sky that someone sent for them.

"My Ladies, please, your father has returned."

"And Arya?"

"She has been found and is alive."

"Who was she found by?"

"The king's soldiers, my Lady."

Tarynn took her younger sister's hand and followed the guard as he led them through the twisting maze of tents. They were different shades of fabric, but you could tell that which were the servants and which were the richer peoples' who travelled along with the Royal entourage. Torches atop long sticks had been stuck deep into the ground, casting a deep amber glow over everything and making the shadows dance and wave against the material of the tents. Near the fork in the Trident there was a small castle with a large hall belonging to the Darrys, as Tarynn and Sansa approached it their father emerged from the shadows with several Winterfell soldiers following him.

"Sansa, Tarynn." He took hold of Tarynn's hand, his firm grasp made Tarynn feel safe and protected as he led his daughters into the Darry's audience chamber in which King Robert first of his name sat in the High chair; his queen beside him and his son beside his queen. Men lined the hall's walls as Ned Stark entered with his eldest daughters.

"Arya." Ned Stark called loudly.

Ned let go of Tarynn's hand, rushing towards his youngest daughter. "Arya." He enveloped her in a hug. "I thought I'd lost you."

The girl sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know, are you hurt?"

"No. Hungry some, I ate some berries but there was nothing else."

"We'll feed you soon enough."

Tarynn stood just in front of Sansa, still holding onto her sister's hand. When Ned Stark had finished embracing Arya, he let the muddied girl go, directing her to stand next to Tarynn. Tarynn too gave her sister a hug, "Forgive me Arya."

"It's okay, I'm sorry too."

Sansa made no move to embrace Arya, instead she stood rigid beside Tarynn, her slim fingers grasping Tarynn's sleeve.

"What is the meaning if this?" Ned Stark's voice filled the room, "Why was I not told that my daughter had been found? Why was she not brought to me at once?"

"How dare you speak to your king in that manner!" Cersei Lannister's voice was cold. "Seems your eldest has taken that trait from you."

"Quiet, woman." The king straightened in his seat. "I am sorry Ned. I never meant to frighten the girl. It seemed best to bring her here

Tarynn moved forward a step, and the queen looked at her threateningly, before turning her gaze to someone beside her. She nodded her head in Tarynn's direction and Toby stepped out heading towards where Tarynn stood. His fingers grasped her wrist, keeping her still.

"Is that really necessary?" Ned Stark's voice floated above the other voices in the hall.

"Just a precaution, we are discussing things that should be kept between adults."

"Be quiet woman, Tarynn is hardly a child now that she has reached her eighteenth year." The king's eyes glided up and down her body and she shuddered, pressing herself into Toby's side. Toby's grip loosened, and he looked down at her, moving his hand down to grasp her hand lightly instead. Tarynn's gaze switched from the king, to Toby before settling down on the queen whose own gaze was in the pointed direction of Toby holding Tarynn's hand. Tarynn removed her hand from Toby's own, but it was too late, the damage was done. The queen's lips curved into a deviant smile as she continued to stare down at Tarynn and Toby from her perch.

_There is nothing between me and Toby! Please don't cause unnecessary trouble._

But an intrinsic part of Tarynnknew that the queen will implant rumours, small seeds of doubt, into those who were on friendly terms with Tarynn.

_The Stark girl has been having a romantic relationship with a bastard._

And Tarynn would be helpless against such a rumour.

The silent exchange between Stark and Lannister was disrupted by King Robert's booming voice. "I am king and I will make the decisions. Sansa, you were with my son when he was supposedly attacked by Arya and that wolf of hers was you not?"

Sansa's voice was timid and shaky when she replied, "I was, your G-grace."

"Good. Perhaps you can shed some light on the situation."

"Well, I, Nymeria did…"

Sansa froze, and Tarynn broke away from Toby to comfort her, "Just say what you told me San, you're not going to get told off for it."

"Nymeria did bite Joffrey."

"No she didn't! You're lying! You're lying!" Arya flew at Sansa, punching and kicking at her elder sister.

Tarynn tried to separate them but it took Eddard Stark to stop Arya from trying to beat Sansa to a pulp.

"That beast hurt your heir, it should be executed." Queen Cersei glared from where she stood on the dais, Joffrey whimpering beside her.

"No! No, no no!" Arya began to cry.

"Your Grace what do you intend to do?" Ned Stark looked back at his daughters. Ser Jory had lifted a struggling Arya up.

"You punish yours I'll punish mine… Everyone dismissed." The king stood, but the queen was adamant.

"That beast almost killed your son."

The king sighed, and sat back down. "I'm sorry Ned, but the beasts, they're too dangerous."

_Plural… Beasts? No! Not Tome._

Tarynn moved towards where the king sat, "You can't Lady and Tome didn't do that to Joffrey. They wouldn't harm anyone! You can't!"

"Where is the beast that mauled your son?" Cersei's voice was cold.

"We couldn't find it your Highness."

"Then the other two most be killed."

"No!" Sansa was openly sobbing now, and Tarynn was filled with shock and anger. She crouched down beside Sansa, pulling the girl into an embrace.

"I'm sorry Ned."

"Is this your order your Grace?" Her father spoke through gritted teeth.

"Payne, find the wolves and…"

"Kill them yourself Robert."

The King said nothing to Ned, instead he looked away before standing and sweeping out of the hall, his queen and his son close behind.

Ilyn Payne stepped down from the dais, "No, they are from the north, they deserve a northern death… Ser Jory, take the girls back to the tents."

Tarynn stepped towards her father, "Father you can't!"

"It's the king's orders Tarynn."

"Then please, allow me to be with Tome as he… dies." Tears rolled down her cheeks freely as she pleaded with her father.

Her father looked at her, sorrow in his eyes. "Bring Tome here, to me."

Toby went to move towards her, but she brushed him off. She was inconsolable. Tome hadn't mauled Tome, he was innocent, he didn't deserve to die for a crime he hadn't committed. Tarynn swept out of the hall, half running and half stumbling towards the door as tears trickled down her face. She pushed it open and was almost ran down by a horse had someone not pulled her back sharply by someone she didn't even care to name.

The Hound rode past, a dead body hanging over the back of his steed. Her father appeared behind her, "You killed him."

The Hound looked at her father and then at Tarynn, his eyes were dead and unremorseful, "He ran."

He rode past without a second look back and Tarynn's heart felt like it had been ripped out of her chest. She had made a terrible mistake in thinking that she could trust the Hound. He had murdered Mycah, poor Mycah who had made the mistake of becoming friends with Arya. How could he kill a child? Tarynn felt her whole world crumble; her closest companion was to be put down and the man that had she started to trust had just murdered in cold blood. But then again he was a Hound, what else was she expecting.

She ran to her tent, he sight blurred by tears. It wasn't until she reached her makeshift home that she realised she had been followed. Toby pulled her into his arms and she sobbed, her forehead resting against his chest.

"I can't… I don't want him to die."

She felt fingers running through her hair.

"I have a plan, Tarynn are you listening to me?"

She looked up, blinking away the tears and looking up into Toby's face, his emerald green eyes looked down at her, filled with compassion and sympathy. So very different to the cold steel grey of the Hound's.

"I – I'm listening."

"We get rid of Tome, we scare him off. That way he doesn't have to die."

"Will that work? My father will know."

"Not if you don't tell him. Make something up, you're clever, you'll think of some plausible excuse."

"And… You'll help me?"

"Of course, I'd do anything for…"

She kissed him on the cheek, just like she had done with the Hound except this time she wasn't kissing a scar. Toby's cheek was smooth, "You're risking a lot for me."

"I know. But as long as you can shake the wolf no one will know about it."

Tarynn stepped back from Toby's embrace, and smiled through her tears. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Toby stepped forward, closing the gap in-between them, his lips brushing her cheek. "Please, I don't need thank yous." He pressed himself closer to Tarynn and his lips ghosted over her own. He was testing her, to see if she would pull away. She didn't.

_He's saving Tome for me; one kiss isn't going to hurt. The Hound… Turns out you can't tame something that was made to be wild._

His lips pressed against hers and Tarynn experienced her first kiss that wasn't forced upon her unwanted, she opened her mouth slightly in the heat of passion and Toby responded, his hand resting on the back of her head as she looped her arms around his neck.

And for the first time, Tarynn began to believe in the possibility of the concept of love.


	13. Chapter 13

So this chapter is out quite quickly! Thanks for the support and the reviews, lets see if we can get the reviews to 50! I was planning on releasing this next week but I've almost finished chapter 14 as it is so I decided to gift this to you, though I suppose it's me who should be receiving gifts as it's my birthday on the 8th. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter, and there is a lot more Sandor in this. I also want your opinion on whether I should include some more adult content in this story, if not I could publish the adult stuff as a stand alone but with the same characters. I am also considering the idea of writing add-ons. Maybe for Jon Snow and Dany Targaryen. But for now I am going to focus on this! I would love your opinions so please don't be shy.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 13.

"How will we do this Toby?"

"Quickly and quietly."

Toby moved swiftly through the forest, holding leaves and branches out of the way as Tarynn followed close behind, Tome hot on her heels. Owls made their noises in the black night, and the only light they had to shed on their path was from the moon.

_Tome. Poor Tome, I wish this wasn't the case. But… I'd rather you away and safe rather than dead and buried._

They had little time; soon her father would come to her tent, probably expecting his eldest, strong minded daughter to be sobbing into the coat of her favourite creature. Instead he would see her stumbling from the woods calling for Tome, pretending that he had run off as soon as she had coaxed him from the confines of the tent. She would then accompany her father for the execution of Lady, just so that the docile wolf had someone comforting as she faded from this world, before she met with Toby again.

"How do I get rid of him?"

Toby looked back at her, sympathy set deep into his eyes, he reached out for her hand and she allowed him to take it. "Talk to him, he must have some of the same traits as you. Tome is not just some mere beast. If that fails, I'm afraid we'll have to chase him away." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and pulled her closer, his hand still tightly clasped around her own.

Tarynn nodded, looking down beside her at Tome's loping body.

_I don't want him to leave me. He's a reminder of home, a great, brave reminder. And who else will I have to protect me now? What with the Hound proving me wrong, I really thought that he had it in him to abstain from his bloodlust. But apparently the opportunity to ride down a young boy was just too good to pass up. Toby however, maybe just maybe… Perhaps he'll be my knight in shining armor? Ha! Knight in shining armor, I sound too much like Sansa, besides, what's to say he isn't some sort of murdering maniac as well?_

"What are you thinking about Tee?"

"Tee?"

"What, I figured you deserved a nickname, and plus Tarynn is quite the mouthful."

"But Tee?"

"It can be code." He turned to her, "I'll write love letters to you, address them to 'Tee' so that they think I'm writing to some servant girl."

"Love letters huh?"

"Yeah… You don't believe in love at first sight?"

She looked at Toby; at the way the moonlight gave him an ethereal appearance, at how he was quite tall, much taller than Tarynn was that's for sure. She realised that she felt something for him but she didn't get the same feeling that she got when she looked at the Hound, that burning desire, the heat that flared up in her most private of parts.

_The Hound's dangerous and unpredictable, just like Theon. Even more so, Theon was craven._

She didn't answer truthfully, but neither did she lie.

"I'm not sure; I confess I don't know what love feels like."

"Well I do, and it feels like nothing else, I can't explain it. You'll just know it."

Tarynn knew he was slightly disappointed, and so she squeezed his hand. He looked down at her grinning before stopping and pressing his lips lightly against her own. Tome whimpered, reminding them of the reason why they were trekking through the woods in the first place.

"We're going to have to hurry up. We don't want your father sending out search parties."

*Sandor*

_The way she looked at me._

Sandor plunged his face into a bowl of ice cold water, purging his face of the stinging sensation that his burn was emitting.

_She was horrified._

He looked up into the looking glass that was hanging up above the small basin that the room that the queen had given him was supplied with. Her Grace had wanted him near her son at all times now that the little Stark girl's direwolf had taken a chunk out of him. But it wasn't the little pretty boy he was concerned about. It was Tarynn; the woman who made his dead heart beat fast with every word and look she directed at him.

_And now she despises me._

He took the scrap of linen that was to serve as his towel and rubbed his face dry. He didn't know what possessed him to ride down the boy. He had seen red, a deep crimson haze which had blurred his vision and thoughts and just rode over the red haired child.

_What would she want with you anyway? You're a monster._

He had seen her with the Lannister bastard. The way she laughed with him, the shy smiles and secret glances, the flirting. He could never amount to that, never top it. He was almost twenty seven years of age and lusting after an eighteen year old who deserved more than what he could give her.

Sandor screwed the linen up into a tight ball, clenching his fist before releasing it and tossing it into a corner. There was something about the Lannister bastard though, something that caused his gut to twist about but he couldn't pin point it. The boy hid it well with easy smiles and flirtatious winks, but there was certainly something shifty about his persona.

_And the Gods know it's a common misconception that I'm the only one for you… But I will try, and if I don't succeed then I'll die trying._

Sandor went to his bed, the first sturdy one he had slept on since they had left Winterfell, lying on his back and looking up at the beams that crisscrossed the ceiling. But it wasn't the beams he saw, it was Tarynn, the image of her floating above him enticingly, he could almost feel the soft warmth of her skin, the long silken hair, those blue eyes so inquisitive and intelligent, but so quick to trust.

_I made a promise, and I keep my promises._

He turned on his side, closed his eyes and fell into the thick veil that was sleep. His dreams, instead of being filled with nightmares, possessed a dream centred around Tarynn…

_Her laughs echoed off the walls as she ran through the castle._

_It was a castle that Sandor remembered from long ago, one he had not visited in a long time._

_He was chasing after her down the halls, halls that were made up of cracked stone and forgotten memories. As he ran past a flash of yellow teased the edges of his vision._

_He caught up to her, taking her in his arms, pressing kisses down her neck, unlacing her dress with quick nimble fingers. _

"_Sandor." Her moan was breathy and filled with unspoken desires as she grabbed hungrily at his shirt, pulling him down to her; a searing kiss was shared between them. He growled in return, slipping the dress off Tarynn's shoulders, it pooled around Tarynn's ankles, leaving her in just her corset and undergarments. He fiddled with the laces of the corset, his lips still moving with Tarynn's as she pressed her body tightly against his, his manhood beginning to harden. He gave up with the laces, pulled away from Tarynn and took a dagger from the waistband of his trousers. He ran the sharpened blade up the back of Tarynn's corset before prising it off and throwing it to the side. Bearing her breasts to him, his hand slid over one, caressing it as Tarynn gasped and bucked against him. He kissed just under her ear and laid her down on the floor…_

Sandor woke with a grunt, his member having swelled considerably. He stood, planning on walking it off. What was this girl doing to him?

*Tarynn*

When they reached a spot that was relatively far away from the main encampment, she turned to Tome and knelt amongst the leaves, holding out her hand. The direwolf came to her, licking the palm of her hand, looking up at her with intelligent blue eyes.

"You need to go Tome, they'll kill you otherwise." Hot tears began to slip out of her eyes, and she felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to miss you, so much." She leant forward, wrapping her arms around Tome's neck, the direwolf snuffling against her. When she pulled back Tome looked down at the ground whimpering, "Please Tome, I can't let my father kill you. It won't be forever. I'll find you again one day. I swear it."

Tome licked her face, gave one last whine before turning and slipping through the trees. Several moments passed before Tarynn had the strength to stand, and even then she collapsed into Toby's arms.

"It's not for forever Tee, he'll come back to you when the time is right."

"I hope so, I really do."

"You have to get back, to your father. If you spend anymore time out here we'll get caught. I confess I don't know what they would do if they knew I had helped you."

_You have thwarted the king's justice, we both have, and my father would be compelled to do the right thing._

But again she didn't share with Toby her thoughts, "I don't know Toby, you're risking a lot for me, but I don't know what the outcome would be." She kissed his cheek once again but he wasn't satisfied, he pulled her into a kiss, long and lingering, when they broke apart Tarynn looked up into the crystal like grey eyes…

_Grey? No, green Toby has green eyes._

"I am forever in your debt. But I must return my father will already be suspicious."

Toby guided her back to near the edge of the forest before they parted, he smiled, a sad sort of smile stealing one more kiss from her lips before heading back towards the depths of the forest. He was to take an alternative route so that they weren't seen in one another's company. Tarynn calmed herself, Tome was safe but now she had to face lying to her father, something that she had never been very good at. Robb had been though; he was good at pulling the wool over both their mother's and father's eyes. He had this great line…

"_I am heir to Winterfell and you doubt my honesty? Father Maybe you should name Tarynn as your heir if that's the case."_

Her father would laugh, jostle Robb's hair and send the boy on his way. But Tarynn knew there would be no jostling of hair tonight.

When she reached the stables that was to be Lady's last place on earth, her father was sat on an overturned trough, Ice was in his hands as he sharpened the edge with a whet stone. He spoke to her without looking up.

"Where's Tome Tarynn?"

She remained looking down at the ground, her eyes were still red and puffy from crying and that added to the deception. "I can't find him father."

"You can't or you won't?" Lord Stark sighed, "Why do I have to have two stubborn daughters, both you and Arya chased off your wolves. I know you did, you've never been very good at lying Tarynn. You think I don't know my own daughters?"

"I… I couldn't let him die Father."

"No, so instead you allow Lady to, a sacrifice in exchange for her two siblings to live. Is that right?"

"Two lives are greater then one."

"It seems that I cannot convince you to turn over your wolf…" Eddard Stark looked his daughter up and down; she had been quite round when they had started the journey south, soft and happy. But now as they continued their venture to King's Landing she had begun to lose the extra weight she had put on as a small child. Robert had been right; she looked exactly like Lyanna, acted exactly like Lyanna… She shared the same stubborn traits as his long dead sister. "Hold Lady, she deserves comfort."

Tarynn knelt beside the wolf that had been chained to the wall. A weight lifting off her chest as she realised that she had gotten away with avoiding Tome being killed. She stroked the gentle wolf's head as her father neared, the great sword clasped tightly in his grip.

"Hush Lady, think of Sansa and rabbits."

The direwolf whimpered, and Tarynn calmed her by stroking her soft, smooth fur. When her father drove the point of his sword into the wolf, Lady yelped before collapsing limply in Tarynn's arms. Her body heaved one more time with life before falling still. Tears soaked Tarynn's cheeks as she gently laid the dead wolf down on the ground.

"Tarynn…" Her father reached out to her, his rough hand clasping her shoulder, "You understand why I had to do it yes?"

"Our way is the old way."

"Yes. And we must kill those who we condemn personally, a weak Lord is a Lord who cannot raise his own sword to kill a man he has personally condemned to death."

"But you didn't condemn Lady, King Robert was the one who gave the order."

"Lady is of the north, she deserved to die by a northerner's hand, not by the hand of a pet executioner… Come; let us pray to the Old Gods so that Lady's spirit will be sped along to her final resting place."

They sat together quietly for a time, praying to the Gods that Lady would find peace in the land that souls go to after they depart from the mortal world. The cut that Eddard Stark had used to end Lady's life had been clean; no blood had spilled from the wound.

"Tarynn you need to sleep, tomorrow we start the last leg of the journey. The queen is anxious to get back to King's Landing as soon as…"

"I don't care for the queen."

"She is still Robert's wife, and you must respect her as such. Now go, I won't have another word from you." Tarynn stood, brushing down her dress. Ned stood too, taking his daughter into his arms and gently kissing her forehead, "Robert was right, you are so very much like Lyanna. Now go, and dream of books and quills."

Ned allowed his daughter to leave him and crouched beside the dead wolf, his head in his hands. He wouldn't be able to console Sansa, and was relying on Tarynn to do that for him. He missed his Cat, perhaps he shouldn't have left Winterfell after all.

As Tarynn walked back towards her tent a shadow emerged from the darkness to her left, she looked up, her eyes stinging from crying. She went to move past whoever it was looming in the dark, but someone stepped out in front of her, causing her to stop and look up.

"Sandor."

"Tarynn."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Well I'm not leaving until you do."

"You murdered that boy in cold blood."

"He ran."

"That's your answer is it? The boy ran so you decided to kill him?! You are… You disgust me."

"I don't expect you to understand…"

"You're right I don't understand…"

"Will you shut up for just one moment?" Tarynn closed her mouth, the retort she was about to use left forgotten, the Hound placed his hands on her arms but she flinched away, shrugging off his touch. He dropped his hands, his eyes showing a rare flicker of emotion. "They'll notice it if I just change the way I act. I'm a killer Tarynn, I've told you before."

"But that was a boy."

"I've killed other children before…"

"You are not helping your case!"

A silence surrounded them. Sandor looked into Tarynn's eyes, hoping to convey some sort of silent message, hoping that she would understand that she would forgive him. But the moment was lost to him when someone else joined the moment.

"Lady Tarynn?"

"Toby. I'm fine, the Hound was just leaving."

Sandor watched as the Lannister bastard walked up to Tarynn, placing a hand on her shoulder protectively. A surge of jealousy rose up inside Sandor and he repressed the urge to rip the grinning fool's face off.

"Tarynn please."

"That's Lady Tarynn dog, she is miles above your station."

"At least I'm not a bastard."

"Gentlemen please."

"Rather be a bastard then an old dog," A sneer masked Toby's face, "an ugly one at that."

"Please." Tarynn turned her back on Sandor, her long hair got caught on a breath of wind causing it to float up and into Sandor's face; he inhaled, breathing in her scent. "Toby I can handle it, just go."

"No I won't leave you with this…"

"Toby."

"He murdered that child!"

"He won't harm me."

"He's a savage."

"He's _my _savage."

Toby's eyes narrowed as he gazed over Tarynn, green eyes flickering between the two. Sandor watched as the bastard tried to contain the anger that was no doubt trying to make an appearance and inwardly he grinned. However Toby somehow managed to suppress it.

"Fine. I will visit you later however, just to make sure you made it back to your tent in one piece."

He stooped and kissed Tarynn on the cheek, his hand lingering on her waist, Sandor bristled.

"Go." The blonde haired man turned on his heel and stalked off towards the tents that served as the soldiers make shift quarters, his cloak gently flapping in the wind.

"You have gained yourself a fan."

"Toby's a good man Sandor."

"Are you sure about that?"

Tarynn looked down at the ground.

_Am I sure? Am I truly convinced? If so why can't I say it? What's stopping me from telling Sandor that I believe that Toby is a good man through and through? _

"I don't like him Tarynn."

"Well it's not your decision."

"You're the daughter of the Lord of Winterfell; do you know what would happen to you if you got caught with a bastard?"

"What are you saying? That it's better if I got caught with you?" Sandor wanted to scream yes at her, to shut her up and smother kisses over that indignant mouth of hers, but he had already lost a battle that he didn't realise he had been fighting until the last moment. "I am not the heir to Winterfell, and my father has four other children that he can use to strike up connections. If I decide to be with someone then I'll be with them, I have never believed in the concept of marriage. Nor, even though I have flirted with the idea…"

"That's not all you've been flirting with."

"… of love, am a believer in that either. But… I cannot trust you Sandor. I thought you a better man but I was sorely mistaken."

The Hound took his flask from his hip, lifting it to his lips, tipping his head back he poured a copious amount down his throat before swallowing and looking back at Tarynn with hollow eyes.

"You don't need to trust me, but I'll be watching you wolf. And you should be watching yourself. Sometimes it's the ones who look the most normal who are the most dangerous."

He brushed past, his cloak snapping in the wind. Tarynn was left rooted to the spot, not even turning round to watch him go. One more tear fell from her eye but she brushed it away hastily before heading to where she was supposed to be for the night.

* * *

She tore back the tent flap, knowing that it would be empty seeing as Tome was now several miles away from the encampment. She unlaced her dress, and then her corset, rummaging around for a clean white shift. When she found it she slipped it over her head, but her skin prickled and she felt eyes on her. She ran across the tent, grabbing the dagger that lived in her riding boots.

"Whose there?"

"T – Tarynn?"

"San?" Tarynn put the dagger back in her boot, and went to the tent flap; she moved it aside revealing her slender sister.

"I can't sleep." The girl's eye's were swollen red with tears, and Tarynn could still see the silvery track marks that the tears had made on Sansa's cheeks. She pulled Sansa into an embrace.

"Oh Sansa, I'm so very sorry." Sansa sniffled, burying her face into Tarynn's shoulder. "Come, you can sleep with me tonight."

This was rare, Tarynn usually never allowed others to sleep in the same chambers as her, she was very much a solitary person when it came to sleeping arrangements but her sister needed comfort and seeing as their mother wasn't there to provide motherly sympathy the task fell to Tarynn.

"Was she at peace?"

"Yes. Yes she was at peace Sansa."

"It wasn't even Lady's fault, it was Nymeria's. Nymeria's and Arya's, it's not fair."

"I know. But life rarely is fair."

Tarynn spread the cushions and blankets to make a wider space for the sisters to both sleep comfortably on. She left the light blue one that Tome used to sleep on, pushing it to the side. She covered the pillows who a blanket and found another blanket that was big enough for them to sleep under comfortably. When that was done Sansa laid down and Tarynn followed suit.

"I miss mother."

"As do I."

"Tarynn?"

"Yes?"

"Could you sing to me?"

"Which one?"

Tarynn knew the answer before Sansa said it. The first thing that Tarynn had learned when she had begun taking lessons in how to speak the bastard Valyrian of the Free Cities had been a song, a song about the moon and the sun and their unrequited love.

"The one about the sun and moon that you used to sing to me when I was little."

"In Valyrian?"

"Yes, it's so much more beautiful in Valyrian."

Tarynn cleared her throat and sat up slightly, she brushed a few strands of hair from her sister's forehead before starting to sing:

_The moon and sun drifted so happily,_

_Together they were, and together they'll be,_

_Though they have seen only glimpses,_

_Their love is like that of a prince and princess._

_But when darkness falls and casts away the light,_

_The world blackens as it fades to night,_

_The sun disappears from his view,_

_The moon mourns for his beau,_

_And when the light creeps back in,_

_The moon sets, the sun's day begins,_

_Two loves who rule the sky,_

_Who will never meet eye to eye._

When Tarynn had finished singing Sansa had mumbled a thank you before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. It was times like these when Sansa looked like the little girl she was and not the grown woman she was so desperate to be.

_Cherish it, my sweet dear sister for you will grow and you will change and your life will never be the same. I should know. I set off on this venture to King's Landing with the intent of learning all there was to know, and seeing all there was to see. But instead I am flirting with a bastard, and allowing a heartless killer to get close to me. _

Tarynn sighed and kissed her sister softly on the temple, Sansa stirred before lying still once again. Tarynn turned over and closed her eyes, a howl sounded in the distance which caused her to think of Tome, of Sandor and how everything she cared about seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

_He ran across curving forest paths, kicking up the dirt and the leaves, he ran along his snout in the air breathing in the scents of the forests. She smelt of the forest, his bond did. But now she didn't want him that he had to go in order to live. But he would watch, he would follow from a distance, he would not leave his bond alone in the stone prison that the two legged creatures called King's Landing. _

_He will be unseen, but he will be there. Watching and waiting._

_*_Sandor*

When Sandor returned to the small box room that was situated next to Prince Joffrey's he didn't proceed to his bed immediately. Rather he went to the window, the moon was still high in the sky but soon it would slip from its peak and the brightness of the sun would replace it.

_I need her. I want her and I will have her. No insolent blonde haired fucker will get in my way._

He clenched the window sill tightly, chunks of mortar breaking off in his grasp. He was one of the strongest men in Westeros. His rival being in the form of his own brother, and yet Tarynn could bring him to his knees with just one word.

_Well a word and the thing that lies between her legs._

He pushed away from the window and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Tormenting him was the smell of Tarynn which still lingered. He looked down his arm and spied a strand of hair, too light to be his own and too dark to be Joffrey's. He plucked it from his arm and held it up in the moon light. It was long, and it was Tarynn's. Sandor stood and went to the window again, he held out the strand of hair and let go, watching it as it floated away on an invisible burst of wind. He was about to turn from the open window and pull down the slats to block out the glare of the moon when he heard something down on the road below.

He craned his neck struggling to see out of the tiny window, but he was able to distinguish the two voices. One was distinctly female and the other was male, the male had a lilting, easy tone to it and Sandor swore he had heard it before. He could make out gaps of their conversation, the woman was talking;

"And she has played into your hands… Good… Make's it easier."

"…Problem… There's another, and I don't think she'll be as easy to… Then we first thought… She's not into the whole…"

"Strange… Women love that."

"Do you?"

The man had a suggestive tone in his voice, and he heard a flirtatious giggle and a sigh. Even when they had finished their conversation, and one of them who had been involved in the parley walked towards the direction of the tents. The other, the woman, walked towards the door that led to the servants' part of Castle Darry. Sandor kept an eye on her as she moved. If she hadn't turned around at the door he would have just surmised that it was a servant girl plotting with a soldier of some sort, but she did and the moonlight illuminated her face squarely.

Cersei Lannister looked around but never up before she disappeared into Castle Darry's servants' entrance. An uneasy feeling settled over Sandor as he moved away from the window and tugged the slats down. He wondered if he had seen too much, and who the subject of the conversation that had just occurred was.


	14. Chapter 14

Hey guys, as usually support is overwhelming thank you. I'm glad to see a few new fans of this story as well, makes me want to write more. Chapter 15 is almost done. We are almost a King's Landing! Let the trouble with Tarynn begin! :D

Keep safe.

Slightly nerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 14.

When the first soft tendrils of light curled through the gap of the tent flap, Tarynn was only half aware that something sharp was digging into her face, the other half was still asleep, clinging helplessly to the dream she had been experiencing the night before. She struggled to reclaim it, her potions that she drank to clear her mind of nightmares also made it difficult to recall the rare good dreams that she had. Someone tapped on her shoulder;

"Tarynn? Tarynn are you awake."

She grumbled in response before pushing herself up slowly and turning to face Sansa, who was the one stirring her from her dreams, well Sansa and the sun.

"Yes I'm awake…" The girl looked forlorn and sad, "What is it Sansa?"

"I miss Lady that's all."

"I miss Tome."

"I don't understand why the queen would want Lady or Tome dead; they were both so sweet and precious. I wish it wasn't like this."

Tarynn reached out brushing a strand of Sansa's auburn hair behind her ear, "So do I." Tarynn stood, stretching, her arm clicked into place, "Has anyone come into the tent?"

"A blonde haired girl; your maid I think? And a man, but he backed away when he saw I was awake and here with you. I didn't recognise him either."

There were two piles of close folded neatly on one of the chests, a dress and undergarments for Sansa, and brown leather riding gear for Tarynn. "The girl was Bronte in that case… What was the colour of the man's hair?"

"Blonde."

_Toby._

"Did he speak to you?"

"No, but he dropped a letter… Here I put it next to you."

Sansa held out a square envelope that had been lying beside Tarynn's pillow, it had obviously been the sharp object which had dug into Tarynn's face. She accepted it, and opened it, relishing the soft wind on her skin.

_Tee,_

_We depart mid-morning, I wasn't sure if you had been told. No doubt someone will come tell you later but still. _

_I am also in talks with my cousin Jaime about being transferred to your father's guard, I don't like how you have hardly anyone to protect you and I feel that I would be able to do this job adequately. _

_Also stay away from the Hound; he is a murderer and an untamed creature. More beast than man, he could hurt you and I don't want to see that happen. I care for you too much to allow any sort of harm to befall you._

_Yours,_

_Toby._

"Who is it from?"

"Oh just an acquaintance that I made on the journey, she promised to bake me some of that sweet bread that the queen had served us the other day, this letter was just telling me that she had done it and would deliver it to me later."

She felt guilty lying to Sansa, but the young girl didn't seem to twig that Tarynn was lying through her teeth, "Oh, I really could do with some lemon cakes; maybe if I befriended one of the cooks they would bake some for me."

Tarynn laughed, "I'm sure they would. Now come, get dressed, you are joining the queen in the wheelhouse today and you must look the part of a princess."

Sansa laughed as Tarynn tossed the dress to her, she caught it and shook it out. "I don't remember packing this one?"

Tarynn looked over the yellow linen dress, it would fit Sansa snugly and the neck line did look a little low, but it was no doubt a gift from the queen and her father had already told her about treating the queen with correct courtesy and niceties.

"It will look lovely on you Sansa, but it may clash with your hair a little."

"Yellow, yellow for my brave Lion."

Sansa began to strip as Tarynn aided her with her undergarments; Tarynn paused as she was lacing up Sansa's corset

"Joffrey's a Stag Sansa."

"But he's a Lannister as well and so dreamy," Sansa let out a girlish sigh, "Don't you agree Tarynn?"

"Oh yes very dreamy… This isn't too tight is it?" Sansa shook her head, her auburn hair bouncing. "There."

She moved away from Sansa and to her own clothes that had been laid out. Thankfully she wouldn't have to wear a corset today as she was to be riding. Bronte had given her a white top which laced up, a brown leather corset type clothing item, a dark green skirt with embroidery decorating the edges and her riding boots. Bronte was getting better at picking out clothes, but it was obvious that she was use to choosing clothes for little girls, not grown women. Still Tarynn dressed in what had been given to her and braided her hair. She braided Sansa's too after the younger girl started moaning about not having washed her hair and that the prince couldn't see her in such a state.

"Oh do shut up Sansa, you look extremely pretty," Tarynn kissed her sister on the cheek. "Now, we must go, they'll be wanting to pack up the tents."

She took her sisters hand, snatched up the letter that Toby had written her and her soft brown cloak before departing from the tent. On her way through to where the horses had been stabled she noticed a torch that had yet to be extinguished. She made a detour, letting go of Sansa's hand and walking up to the torch. She held the letter next to it, burning the majority of it before allowing the fragment that hadn't been burnt to slip from her fingers and tumble to the floor.

"Let's find father Tarynn, I'm dying for a bite to eat."

"Yes lets."

Lord Eddard Stark had been given a room by the Darrys' due to his status. Tarynn had been offered one as well but she had declined. The weather was getting near unbearable as it was without being trapped in stone walls that retained the heat like something fierce. The room had then fallen to Sansa, who had jumped at the chance of sleeping near Joffrey. But their father had insisted that Arya had it, so that he could keep an eye on the rambunctious girl. Sansa had moaned and stalked off, but eventually, with the encouragement of Tarynn had allowed Arya to have the room.

"Ser Jory! A fine morning is it not?"

"It is indeed my Lady."

"Have you seen my father?"

"He is breaking his fast with his Grace, the Royal family and Arya. I do believe that a few members of the Kingsguard and Lord Renly are in there as well."

"Thank you."

Ser Jory nodded and went on his way. Tarynn pushed Sansa slightly towards the door, "You go on ahead, there is something I must do first."

Sansa nodded, "Okay, I'll tell father that you'll join us shortly."

Tarynn left her sister to go in to the hall alone, and instead went to the stables, the place that Lady had been… Tarynn didn't want to think about it.

She knelt in the same spot that she had knelt the other day and uttered a short prayer, touching the thin smattering of straw that was spread across the floor.

"Tarynn?" She looked up, her moment of prayer broken. It was Sandor, looming tall and imposing in the archway that led into the stable, "There's something that you need to…"

"I've had enough of your words Sandor, for they mean nothing."

He looked as if she had just kicked him in the groin.

"Will you not allow me to apologise, how long will you torment me with this?!"

"For as long as necessary… You killed a child!"

"Yes, I know. Why is it that some are praising me, and others are chastising?" He threw his hands up in the air before moving towards her, "Still, that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"You followed me in here?"

"I… Yes."

"Why? What is it Sandor?"

"It's about that Lannister bastard."

"Toby?"

"Yes him."

"What about him?" She sighed, and stood.

"He's not what he seems."

"Why do you have to be so cryptic all the time?"

He shrugged and Tarynn wanted to slap him, her palm itched.

"You've kissed him, haven't you?"

"And what if I have? It is no concern of yours."

"Don't… Don't trust him. He works for someone else."

"That's ridiculous, of course he works for someone else; he is part of the City Guard. He works for the king, as do you."

She moved towards the archway, but Sandor continued to block it, "Let me pass Sandor."

"Not until you agree to be careful around him."

She looked up and into his grey eyes, there was something in them, something that she had never seen before; concern, actual concern. Normally his face was a mask of stone, impenetrable and unreadable. Something inside began to flash, a warning.

_What if Sandor's right, what if Toby isn't what he seems? The letter, although at first I thought it was sweet, does seem a little controlling… That's nonsense, Toby isn't like that._

"I cannot agree to anything… Are you jealous Sandor?" The Hound's eyes flashed with pain and Tarynn knew the answer without him even saying anything. She placed her hand on his arm, struggling due to her conflicted morals; he had after all killed an innocent child. "I can handle myself."

She pushed past him, about to leave the Hound behind in the stables; she didn't look back, and wasn't going to until he grabbed her arm, holding it tightly in an iron grip.

"Why are you so blind?"

"I'd rather be blind then a murderer."

"That's rich coming from the woman who also ran someone down."

The slap that hit Sandor across the cheek resonated through the stables, a couple of the horse pawed at the ground. He recoiled from her, letting go of her arm.

"Don't EVER compare the murder of a child to what I did. It's not even close."

Sandor was holding his cheek, his grey eyes burning with anger and suddenly Tarynn felt scared, extremely scared.

His voice was low, dangerous, angry, "I've killed women too."

Tarynn backed off her hands slightly raised, "Sandor I…"

He stalked towards her, "Scared of me girl? Good. That's how it's supposed to be. They don't call me the Hound for nothing."

She walked backwards until the backs of her legs hit something, he leaned into her and Tarynn's chest began to tighten.

_No… I can't do this, it's too similar._

"Sandor…" Tarynn was on the edge of tears, "_Please._" With a shaking hand she reached up to caress the cheek she had just struck, as she did she saw some of the anger that had manifested ebb out of the grey eyes that enraptured her so much.

"Tarynn." The Hound sighed, reaching up and holding Tarynn's hand to his face. "Forgive me."

_He's broken, and maybe I could fix him…_

He moved closer to her, his lips almost upon hers, and Tarynn knew somewhere deep in her heart that this was right.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Tarynn jumped, and pulled back further from Sandor. Sandor stepped away from her, allowing her room to breathe and address the man who stood in the opening.

"Please, Toby, it was nothing. Nothing was going on here."

"I gave you explicit instructions not to go near him."

"Are you her father now boy?"

"No but I could gladly inform him that you were forcing yourself upon Lady Tarynn."

"Toby, nothing was going on!"

"Well something was the dog had you pressed into a corner."

"Why don't you just fuck off and press something into your cousin."

_Cousin?_

Tarynn looked between the two men, Sandor stood nearest to her, clenching his fists. Toby seemed to slouch indifferent in the archway but his eyes told a different story. They were green wildfire, he held out his hand.

"Lady Tarynn, come, your father is expecting you."

"No, she goes no where with you."

"You are not part of her personal guard. So stand aside."

"I'd rather see you on the end of my sword then have Tarynn go anywhere with you."

Tarynn wanted to scream, she stepped out from behind Sandor heading towards where Toby stood. "I have to go with him Sandor."

"Tarynn…" His voice was raspy and low, a torrent of mixed emotions, of pain and sadness.

"My father told me to perform my duty, and my duty is to return to my family." She looked over the Hound, the man who was so difficult to understand, who never wpree his heart on his sleeve. "I'm sorry Sandor." She turned on her heel, her skirts floating in a wide arc as she turned, and walked out into the glimmering sunlight.

*Sandor*

"Face it dog, you've lost. Give up the chase before someone puts you down."

Sandor stood rooted to the spot, mostly out of shock but partly out of anger. He so very badly wanted to smash the smirking Lannister's face against the stone of the stable floor but he knew that Tarynn would hate him even more than she did already.

"I know your little secret bastard."

"Oh? And which one would be that," the green-eyed bastard grinned, full of cockiness and confidence.

"If you harm her…"

"I can make her happy; I doubt that's really harming her. But you… You've already proven to her the monster that you can be. She hates you, get over it, and move on. Once we reach King's Landing there'll be plenty of barrels of wine to drown yourself in and plenty of prostitutes to fuck yourself into oblivion with."

_She doesn't hate me, she wanted me. I could see it in her eyes, in her touch... She just doesn't realise it. Not yet._

He could kill the man; a couple of strides and a twist of the neck and the Lannister bastard would just drop dead at his feet. But he didn't want to see the accusation in Tarynn's eyes. He didn't want to see her cry.

Tarynn made him a weak man.

"I wonder what the king would make of you fucking his royal wife."

Toby's eyes narrowed, "Me? And Cersei?" He let out a laugh of disbelief, "You are more a fool then a dog. My cousin wouldn't even touch me she hates bastards. I do believe she culled a few just these past months." The bastard of Casterly Rock left the stables, "I do believe it will be extremely nice to have a she-wolf warming my bed."

Sandor smashed a fist into one of the beams that supported the roof of the stables, splintering the wood. The bastard was either telling the truth or very good at lying, he hoped it was the latter.

_Tarynn would never crawl into bed with that parasite would she? She has higher standards surely. But would I be that higher standard? A disfigured mutt of a man. Ha._

He had to find a way to reveal the bastard's true intentions.

_But how?_

*Tarynn.*

As she pushed open the door she could hear laughter emanating from inside, the booming guffaws of the king, and the deep chortling laughter of her father.

_At least I haven't missed breakfast._

She admitted herself into the hall, her eyes sweeping over the table and who were still seated at it. She made a note of Arya's absence and of the queen and her two youngest children. Sansa was sat beside Joffrey. Both had their heads dangerously close together. Renly Baratheon sat opposite the king whilst her father sat on the king's right. She had a limited choice, either sit beside Joffrey, the king or Renly. In the end she chose Renly.

The king's eyes raked over he body as she neared the table and Tarynn repressed the urge to fold her arms. The men stood, all apart from the king, as was custom. Renly seated her with a flourish.

"Nice of you to join us Tarynn, what a beautiful afternoon it is."

"Yes father, I know I'm late. I was saying my prayers."

The mirth in her father's eyes faded as he looked over his daughter. Secretly on the inside he was proud that his daughter had inherited his pious belief in the Old Gods, something that he had never shared with Tarynn.

"I see… You'll be happy to know that King's Landing is less then a weeks ride away if we set a fast pace."

"Yes, but with all the hunting trips that my dear brother likes to put on, expect to see the city's gates in oh just over a month should we say?"

"Oh har har Renly, forever the clown."

"I'd rather be the clown than be Stannis."

The king gulped down a glass of wine before slamming the goblet on the table, "And that's why you're my neighbour rather then the miserable wretch we call brother."

It was common knowledge that after Robert had given Renly Storm's End, that Stannis had received Dragonstone, the former seat of the Targaryens. It had been some what of a short straw, Stannis had not appreciated it but he went to the fabled island anyway. Robert was his King and he had been commanded to keep Dragonstone and the surrounding waters free of slavers and smugglers; a duty which he had performed to absolute perfection. However despite everything Stannis had done he was still a subject of ridicule for his brothers.

_I hope that Robb, Bran and Rickon don't consider me ridiculous when they grow up… Oh Bran, Oh Rickon, dear Robb, I miss you my sweets. _

"Would you be so kind as to pass me the flagon of water Renly?"

The Lord of Storm's End did so, pouring her a glass himself before settling the water back down on the table, "You look beautiful today Tarynn may I say."

"Thank you, you're looking quite handsome yourself." It was just courtesy, if someone pays you a compliment then you give one in return, that was how their father had raised them…

"_Our way is the old way."_

"_But father, what about these machines that the Maesters are making? The ones that haul heavy objects and move carts without horses."_

_She had been climbing a tree and was dangling from one of the branches. She was only eight, younger than Arya. Robb and Jon were playing near the pool that surrounded the heart tree, Sansa was still a suckling babe and Arya, Bran and Rickon were no more than stars in the sky._

"_We are not so far back that we can't embrace new ideas. We just put our duty before everything else. That's what makes us old."_

"_I don't want to be old, I want to be young. I never want to grow up. I don't want to have to marry like mother did."_

"_If you're mother never got married she wouldn't have had you."_

"_But Jon's mother wasn't married."_

"_That's a conversation for when you're older." Eight year old Tarynn pouted before hauling herself up onto the tree branch that she had been dangling from, "Now, I thought you wanted me to teach you a few valyrian words? Well you can't do that from where you are up there." Tarynn had leapt from the branch with a squeal, her father had caught her and spun her round. When he had finished he held her tightly to his chest and she had put her small hands on both sides of his face. "I wish you never had to grow up, my little Tarynn, but the Gods make it so that we all grow up, and that we all die. It's our duty to so do."_

"_Our way is the old way." The young Tarynn said and Eddard Stark had kissed his eldest daughter on the forehead._

"_Our way is the old way, and winter is coming."_

The memory faded and Tarynn was brought back to breakfast table with a question directed at her from the king.

"What are the tongues you speak Tarynn?"

"The Valyrian of the Free Cities and Myrish your Grace."

"By the Seven, I'll have need of you then if I ever visit Pentos. Not that I will." Tarynn looked upon the king and bile rose up in her throat, he was a grossly fat man but traces of handsomeness still remained. It wasn't just that though; it was how he looked at her as if she was some sort of meal to be ravished. "Ned have you spoken to Renly about the possibility of a marriage contract?"

"I… Not as of yet Robert."

"What are you trying to do to me Robert? Sansa is already betrothed to your own son, and the other one, Arya is it?" Tarynn nodded, "Well she is much too young."

"Not them you fool, Ly – I mean Tarynn."

"I though you were going to give her to the Tyrells?"

Tarynn had had enough, she was not some prized animal to be traded and bartered, she stood from the table, taking an orange and a bread roll with her.

"If you would excuse me I must attend to my horse." She left abruptly, not waiting for her father's consent. As she walked out of the door a cool wind caught her, cooling down her temper. She breathed in and out for a few minutes before she was joined by someone else. He took the orange from her grasp, flicking it back and forth between his hands.

"If you would be so kind as to return my breakfast to me."

"Here, I'll peel it for you, part of my new job description."

They walked together to where the horses had been left, attached to a series of fences that lined the King's Road. The altercation that had occurred earlier that morning between Tarynn and the Hound was largely forgotten.

"I don't know how you did it."

"Well I asked my cousin to put a good word for me in with the king. Jaime came true on his word and so here I am, having been personally offered to Lord Stark to join his own guard. It also, sort of strengthens ties between Lannister and Stark; in a round about way. I am the son of Tywin Lannister's younger brother I'll have you know. Here."

Toby lifted a segment of orange to her lips and she accepted it, the fruit burst inside her mouth.

"Thank you and I wasn't objecting I just wondered how you managed it."

"I'm rather good with words. And people."

"Well you seem to have anger the Hound, he's a person."

Tarynn looked sideways at Toby before moving over to where her mare had been tethered, he followed her dutifully but there was a silence between them as Tarynn checked her saddle and patted her horse whilst muttering soothing words. There was no Tome anymore to frighten her.

"Barely. How can you call that a human? He's more beast than man and a mental one at that. He could harm you, and I do not want that happening."

Tarynn idly stroked her horse's mane before responding, "He is not a beast just… lost."

"Lost? Is that what you call murderers these days?" Tarynn flinched, Toby was right the Hound was a murderer; he had been one long before Tarynn had met him. He was dangerous and he was brutal. So why was she so inexplicably drawn to him? "I don't want to offend you, but it would be much safer for you, and put my mind and rest if you just kept clear of him, hmm?"

Toby looked around, checking for any people who might see him, before giving Tarynn a chaste kiss on the lips. She didn't object, if she did she felt that Toby might go off and strop and moan, or worse turn violent. And at the moment Toby was all she had now. Her father was too busy with the king and the girls… Well they were exactly that, just girls.

"If it makes you feel better."

"That's my girl, now you just hop onto your horse and we'll ride through the camp, to see if the servants are doing their job correctly." He squeezed her hand tightly and for a brief instant she saw Toby's features twist and crumble away, revealing Theon. She brushed the image aside.

_I left Theon in Winterfell, with the rest of my family. Toby is not Theon, he isn't._

* * *

The day passed fairly quickly, Toby was a constant companion, and he had even spoken to her in front of her father. A daring thing to do, she thought her father was going to put him in his place, and she knew he would have done if Jaime Lannister hadn't ridden up and referred to him as cousin.

Part of Toby's job description as being part of her father's guard was that he had to don a cloak of grey and white with the Stark sigil of the direwolf adorning it. He had accepted it graciously and proceeded to put it on immediately, his gold one falling to a floor like a curving snake.

It was Jaime now who was riding with them, her father having moved further up the column.

"So what do you make of my dear cousin Lady Tarynn?"

"He is a fine soldier and a good guard."

"That all?" The Kingslayer grinned, cocky and arrogant, "Tobias does love it when the women compliment him."

"Don't call me Tobias Jaime, and that last part isn't true."

"Is it not? Perhaps I have the wrong _Tobias_ then, you were quite a lady's man when you were at Casterly Rock." Jaime's eyes swept over her, "Perhaps you still are."

"I am a soldier now, and part of Lord Stark's own guard. My duty is to serve him, not serve women."

"Lady Tarynn is a dear sweet woman and it seems you want to serve her," The Kingslayer leant in close to Toby, thinking that Tarynn wouldn't be able to hear him as she was riding slightly ahead, "Or is it all just pretence for a darker scheme."

Toby's voice was menacing and quietly threatening when he responded, "Mind your tongue cousin, I do not scheme and I am acting in a good and honest nature."

The kingslayer laughed, "Have a joke Toby, I know you lust for our she-wolf, I can see it in your eyes." He ruffled Toby's hair. "Now I must return to my king. Enjoy the rest of your day, guard of Winterfell." He called slightly louder to Tarynn." Enjoy the summer's eve Lady Tarynn."

Tarynn decided to feign innocence, a test to see what Toby would respond with. "What did Ser Jaime say?"

"Oh nothing, just a few passing comments on my new position, he was… congratulating me."

_And you're lying. Why lie Toby? Why are you hiding just one small conversation, you know I heard it._

"I see."

She said no more, turning her gaze to where the king rode, squashed in between her father and Lord Renly. Joffrey Baratheon rode beside Renly and the Hound was just beside him. The Hound was broad shouldered; a cape flowed down his back. He was wearing grey steel plate armor, his helm shaped into that of the head of a snarling dog was on his head.

"In less then a week we'll be in King's Landing, I'll give you a tour if you like. There is plenty to see and visit, it will be quite the adventure… Tarynn are you listening to me?" She wasn't listening, her attentions were else where, on the man who made her heart beat so fast she felt it was going to leave her chest. "Tarynn."

"I'm sorry Toby, you were saying?"

"That you look beautiful today, and to stop thinking of that… Animal."

_How can I stop thinking of him though, when it is he who I want to understand most. _


	15. Chapter 15

Hey guys sorry it's been a while, I don't have much time to sit down and write at the moment so updates may become more sparse but I haven't given up on this story! I will still finish it. Anyway I hope the sunshine has reached you, the weather has been warming up and soon summer will be upon us! I'm talking to those who live in the U.K where it's rainy and dull about 95% of the time. If you live in Miami or somewhere as equally as warm then I am positively jealous of you.

Anyway, keep safe!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 15.

King's Landing rose huge and imposing above into the sky. From where Tarynn was she could see the Red Keep and Baelor's Sept, they towered, examples of magnificent architecture. Sansa was beside her, riding a mare.

"It's wonderful isn't it Tarynn."

"Yes, yes it is, absolutely breath-taking."

It had taken the entourage the best part of a month to reach the gates of King's Landing. Streams of people surrounded them, clapping and cheering, alternating between shouts of King Robert and Lord of Winterfell. Tarynn rode behind her father, her two younger sisters on either side. Sansa was waving at the small folk, as was Tarynn when she felt the need arise, but Arya sat still in her saddle.

"Arya, tell me, what's wrong?"

"I just want Nymeria back." Tarynn reached out, patting her little sister in a consoling way on the shoulder. "And all these people are staring at me."

Sansa's whisper was fierce, "That's because you're supposed to be a Lady of Winterfell. Now act like one!"

Tarynn withdrew her hand and sat back in her saddle. Toby was just in front of her to the side, he made up part of the guards that surrounded them as they neared the city, she could see the king as well, leading the columns into his seat of power. Joffrey was there, as was the Hound.

She had not spoken to the Hound for a week, under Toby's orders. Whenever she saw the Hound heading towards her she would take another route or make some sort of excuse, apologise and leave. She knew he was hurt, even though he never visibly showed it, but he never complained nor did he try to stop her like he had in the stables. Instead he had reverted back to treating her as if she didn't exist. He would grunt in passing or if Joffrey made him do something which also involved Tarynn he would do it without a word unless it was common courtesy.

But she knew he watched her, often times she would feel eyes on her back and she would turn round to find the Hound standing somewhere his arms folded, and his grey eyes on her. She wondered how long she would be able to keep this up. She wasn't close to forgiving him for the murder of Mycah but he had been right, whether it had been or cold blood or self defence she too had taken a life from this world. The men in her father's guard would speak of the Hound's prowess with a blade; how he could lop a man's head clean off without even exerting himself. Whenever they spoke of Sandor, Tarynn would lean in and listen carefully.

They often spoke of Sandor during the war, where he had proven himself in various battles and had earned himself, by right, the title of Knight. Yet he had refused, and now corrects anyone who addresses him as 'Ser'.

"Tarynn look."

Sansa was motioning to the fact that they were now passing through one of the gates that led into the city, the portcullis was raised and when Tarynn looked up she could see the spikes that adorned the bottom of it. Somewhere a trumpet sounded long and loud, rising up over the boiling city, after the last blast from the trumpet that was when the cheering started. She was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who occupied the sides of the winding roads, children hanged out of windows, women waved coloured sheets in the air, a couple of people who stood at the road's edge waved flags coloured crimson and gold, the colours of House Baratheon. And to Tarynn's shock, more than just a few waved flags the colours of House Stark.

Shouts of King rose from the crowd, and not before long cries of Stark and Hand joined the thunderous voices. Her father did not wave, he didn't wave to his subjects in Winterfell so no one could expect him to wave to a bunch of unruly southerners. Sansa waved delicately, playing the part of a princess, herself and Arya however remained still. She acknowledge a couple of people but she felt uncomfortable with everyone staring at her, she kept her eyes downcast and rode silently as Sansa giggled and laughed.

"Isn't this just wonderful? The city, the people?!" Sansa continued to wave, smiling brightly as she commented on the obvious as they rode through the thick swarm of people.

Tarynn loved her sister with all her heart but at times she could lose her head in the clouds and not come down for days. She was so obsessed with aesthetics, the exterior of things rather than the interior. Tarynn was not interested in the bright colours and the flags, her eyes were fixed on Baelor's Sept which rose high into the sky and her mind wandered. Thinking about the tomes on the Seven that must be stored in there, thinking of the history and architecture. She was so fixated on the possibilities that she almost didn't see the small child that had run out into the road.

There was a shout from the crowd, and Tarynn looked down from the majestic building to the road that stretched out in front of her. A small child ran towards the horses, the guards a top them hadn't notice for the shouts and cries of cheers that emanated from the bustling crowd drowned out the thin cry that wisped through the air. Tarynn didn't think she simply did, jumping from her horse, she ran towards the soldiers on horseback, shouting loudly.

"Stop… STOP!"

One of the guards turned their heads to her as she ran towards the soldiers, the crowd was still roaring but everything seemed to have slowed down for Tarynn. The guards had still continued riding forward oblivious to the small girl cowering in their path. Tarynn grabbed one of the soldiers' reins, pulling the horse round abruptly before darting through the gap it created and rushing towards the bawling child. Only then did the soldiers realise what had happen, and one by one they slowed, halting. She gathered the child in her arms, her face was streaked with black dirt and from amidst the grubbiness of the child's face two large brown eyes stared up at her. The girl stopped crying and it was then that Tarynn realised that the crowd had stopped its cheering and the entire train of people that made up the entourage had fallen to a standstill.

A hand was on her shoulder and she looked up, half expecting to see Toby looming above her with a look of disdain upon his handsome face. But it wasn't.

The Hound offered her his hand and she took it, he pulled her up gently as she held the child to her hip. When she stood she looked around her, at the faces of the people who made up King's Landing, at her father's stony face as he stood beside his horse, he had dismounted when he had realised that Tarynn wasn't on her horse. At the King's face as he scrutinised her, with his arms folded, at Arya's and Sansa's, Sansa's mouth hanged slightly opened, at the Queen's callous expression when she emerged from her wheelhouse, the Kingslayer close by. She even looked to Toby, and sure enough the look of disgust was painted on his perfect face.

She left Sandor until last, looking up at him, the child nestling her face against Tarynn's neck. She wondered if she would see the same look that was on everyone else's faces on Sandor's, that look of utter revulsion as they came to terms with the fact that she was holding a filthy peasant child to her chest as if it were her own babe. But he didn't, instead he wore the same impenetrable mask that he always wore, but there was something else in his eyes which made Tarynn question herself over wherever she had been too quick to judge him.

He stood slightly beside her, and to an outside eye they would have looked like a family, the mother in front holding the child, with the father behind watching over his family. Like the way they were portrayed in the huge portraits that hung within the halls at Winterfell.

_Apart from this child has a mother, I heard the scream._

She scanned the crowd, until she saw the woman who she surmised had screamed, she had knelt on the floor, her hands over her face. The woman, well she was girl really, was haggard with long brown hair. As Tarynn neared her, the little girl still in her arms, she saw that traces of beauty still remained on the woman and that she was not native to Westeros.

"I believe this is your little girl?"

Tarynn held out the child, towards the woman who had been sobbing profusely. The girl looked up blindly at Tarynn and then at the small girl who was being held out by Tarynn.

"Aima?"

"Mama!" The child reached out towards the woman with her chubby hands and the girl accepted her babe back into her arms. Tarynn withdrew a step back, allowing mother and daughter to have a moment together.

"You saved her, you saved my little girl." The woman's voice was laced with the thick accent of Myr and so Tarynn responded to her in her own tongue.

"Please, I am just glad that no harm came to your beautiful little girl."

The woman's tears turned to tears of joy as she moved towards Tarynn, most likely to embrace her had Sandor not spoke in his gruff voice.

"Know your place woman."

The woman retreated a step, eyes downcast.

"No, allow her to come near." Tarynn gestured to the woman. "What is your name?"

"My name is Tilana."

"Tilana… What do you do Tilana?"

"I… I work the streets… M-my Lady."

Tarynn had never come across that expression before, she looked to Sandor.

"Prostitute." His voice was low as he responded.

"I see."

She reached for the woman's hand, for some strange reason the young girl with the child balanced on her hip reminded her of Greta. "I will have someone send for you; you will come and work for me. No longer will you have to sell yourself in order to live."

"My Lady that is most kind."

Tarynn turned away, Sandor accompanying her as she returned to her horse. He helped her up before returning to his own. There was a brief pause of silence and dread crept into her heart as she realised that what she had just done had been incredibly foolish. But then the crowd erupted.

Shouts of wolf and Lady Stark rose up high into the cloudless blue sky she gave a slight wave, nodding to Tilana before gripping the reins tightly and urging her horse forward, a wave of calm washed over her fears and she began to smile easily, falling quickly into the pattern of waving to large groups of people at once. Still the shouts of Lady Stark rumbled the cobblestone road and caused the glass in the windows to rattle. Among the shouts were cries of Stark and Hand. The Starks had made a fine entry into King's Landing. And they had also won a popularity vote through the fact that Tarynn had willingly helped someone of the lower casts.

The crowd began to quiet as they neared the Red Keep. The King entered first before dismounting and practically threw his reins to one of the stable boys. Her father followed suit as did Joffrey, Renly, the Hound, and some of the Kingsguard including Barristan Selmy. When it reached Tarynn's turn to dismount she had been instructed to wait for her sisters and two guards; Toby and Jory before waving one last time to the swarm of people that clustered around the gate before heading into the large expanse that was King Robert's home. She did, she waited for Arya and Sansa to join her side, and then Jory and Toby. She gave one last wave before following her protectors into the fabled keep.

Toby's face was twisted into a snarl as they entered the keep, and Tarynn knew that she would have to face his anger later when he visited her. On the dais before the haunting iron throne stood an assortment of men. An elderly man with a long beard stood teetering to the left, he wore a heavy chain symbiotic of his role as the head Maester. To his right was a soft, effeminate, plump man with a shaven head. His face was smothered in powder and he wore soft purple robes. To the right of him was a thin, short man. With a triangular beard and deep black hair speckled with grey, he wore black with a silver doublet. Tarynn's eyes ghosted over him, but his gaze was fixated on her. She didn't know who he was but his interest in her was unnerving.

"Come girls… And Tarynn. Welcome to the Red Keep. And this bunch of motley fools is what makes up my small council. Little Finger tell me, has my city been trodden down in bankruptcy since I have been gone?"

"My King this is not the…"

"The only bankruptcy this kingdom suffers is your own, my sweet husband."

Cersei swanned past, heading towards a door to the back of the hall with her children following her like little ducks. Tommen broke from the order for a moment, running to his father. Robert Bartheon struggled to bend but he reached down, ruffled Tommen's yellow hair before pushing him towards Cersei. The stoic Queen smoothed Tommen's hair out in disgust before sweeping her children away and out of the throne room.

"My darling wife… Always the truthful angel. But we have some business to attend to. Ned with me. Someone will sort your daughters out with their rooms… This meet will also require Tarynn."

"Robert?"

"Ned. I need someone fluent in Valyrian and Myrish. Tarynn is the only one standing in this court capable of doing such a task."

"My daughter is just a…"

"Capable young woman. Did you not see how she acted with that child?! The people love her; I have half a mind to…"

Tarynn watched the exchange from afar, out of the corner of her eye she could see the Hound, and beside him Joffrey who was seething with anger and hatred directed at her.

"No." Whatever Robert's implication had been her father had been quick to object to it, "You could hire someone to do it, a slave maybe?"

"And what, leave the secrets of this Keep out for every fucker to hear?" Tarynn instinctively went to cover Arya's ears, just like mother used to do whenever Theon cursed whilst practising his bow. "Tarynn will scribe for us, and then she will use that information to compose a letter written in the language of those savage cities that lie to the East. I am your King Ned, and I command it."

She watched as her father submitted to the King, duty had always been part of her father's beliefs and his duty was to the King. "Tarynn, come."

She moved forward, leaving her sisters behind with Jory and Toby. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as she moved to stand beside her father.

"Right. Your daughters will be given rooms in the Tower of the Hand. Littlefinger, Varys. Shall we adjourn to the small meeting room?"

"Of course, your majesty." Varys voice was a smooth a silk as he responded, before gliding out of the room on silent feet.

King Robert followed, motioning to Ned to walk with him.

"Tarynn, this meeting is for men. Do not offer your opinion, just sit and write. The King can take things the wrong way when someone opposes him. If it was my decision you wouldn't even be sitting in on this meeting."

"Father, I promise, I won't say a word."

"Good." Ned Stark patted his daughter gently on the arm before moving off to walk through the stone corridors with the King.

Tarynn waited for a moment compiling her thoughts when a voice interrupted her. "My, my Lady Tarynn you do remind me of your mother. The same shaped eyes, and light skin, the same nose."

Tarynn turned to the voice and was face to face with Littlefinger, so called for his short stature but he was still at least 5 inches taller than Tarynn. The skin around his eyes wrinkled when he smiled, but he wasn't an ugly man.

"You will have to excuse me but I don't know your name my Lord."

"Petyr Baelish. Master of Coin for our beloved King Robert." Littlefinger snatched up her hand, lifting it to his lips. "The King tells me you are gifted with that tongue of yours."

Tarynn removed her hand before he kissed it, "If you would excuse me I must call over my guard." She turned to where Arya and Sansa had been standing, but they were no longer there. Thankfully however she saw the back of Toby's lean figure. "Toby!"

He turned in the doorway at the sound of his name. She motioned him over to her and he dutifully complied, a grin stretching over his face.

_He is very quick to change his mood._

"Toby could you please accompany me, my father insisted that I had a guard."

_Another lie, but this Littlefinger is creeping me out, he seems too slippery and untrustworthy._

"As your father commands."

Littlefinger on realising that he wouldn't be left alone with Tarynn stalked out of the room, once Petyr was safely in front of them, Toby leant in, pressing his hand against the small of Tarynn's back.

"What was that stunt you pulled earlier?" His whisper was furious as he dug the heel of his hand painfully into Tarynn's tailbone.

"Toby please… The child would have been killed. "

"So you leap off your horse and put yourself in immediate danger? Have you learnt nothing?!"

Her palm itched, a strange tingly sensation that spread like wildfire could be likened to it. "Ser, remove your hand, I am a Lady of House Stark and I will not be treated this way."

Pain and malice flashed through Toby's green eyes, but he removed his hand and walked beside her woodenly. She felt a surge of guilt and sorrow for what she had said and done, surely he was only saying those things because he cared for her.

"Toby I…"

"Lady Tarynn, the King requests you join the meeting immediately. You are to be seated beside Lord Renly."A small squat man addressed her; she thanked him courteously before looking back at Toby nervously. He had regained his composure but there was something in his eyes that made her wonder. She pushed open the door, admitting herself into a light and airy room. A table occupied the middle of it and seated around it were the men that made up the small council. There was an empty seat beside Renly and the Maester, she moved towards it silently, her heart beating fast. Renly stood like he had done that morning that had seemed so long ago, whisked out the chair and motioned for her to sit. She thanked him, and he grinned in return.

"Right, now that our scribe has finally made her way to the meet. Shall we start gentlemen?"

There were murmurs of agreement around the table. She picked up her quill and moved a bottle of ink closer to her before dipping the feather into the black substance, drenching the end in ink. She scratched a rune onto the parchment, before finding a position that was comfortable for her to write with and began to transcribe everything that was being said in the meeting. Later she would have to write out three letters, two of them being in Valyrian and Myrish and the other Westeros.

"Your Grace another report came through from our neighbours in the East."

"What language have those heathens written it in?"

"Myrish, I have been able to make out the gist of it but you will need someone much more gifted in the art of languages then I to decipher it."

Her father's voice was quiet and calculating, "Why would they write in Myrish?"

"Safety my Lord Hand, there are hardly any Myrish in Pentos at this time of year; this way any correspondence can be guaranteed to be delivered to the King safely and unread."

"Well then give it to our linguist Varys." The Spider handed it to her, and Tarynn took it lightly, the letter was heavy in her hand as she opened it, unfolded the parchment and scanned over it. The flow of writing was excellent and the language had been expertly written. "Read it out to us."

She cleared her throat and looked tentatively around the room and the faces of the men who were all watching her. She spoke in what she hoped was a confident voice.

"Your Grace, I hope this letter reaches you sealed, and bares no signs of being tampered with or neglected. I have been asked to co-ordinate an assassination attempt on the last remaining Targaryens. I assure you, the best route would be to employ the talents and skills of the Faceless Men, however they ask a hefty price for their services, although they always succeed in eliminating their target. If the price they ask does not please you then I have an alternate. A few wine merchants are in my employ and I can station them at cities where we feel that Daenarys Targaryen and the rest of Khal Drogo's Khalasar may visit. A few drops of poison in a small goblet of wine and the deed will be done; you will have no more Targaryen usurpers to worry about. Consider my proposals your Grace, I await your response. Yours faithfully…"

Tarynn was cut off by Renly's voice flowing out into the small room beside her, "You are organising the assassination of Daenarys Targaryen?"

"She is a Dothraki bitch now Renly, we need to crush her before things get out of hand."

"She's just a child." Lord Stark's eyes flickered towards Tarynn.

_She's the same age as Sansa._

Daenarys Targaryen was the youngest daughter of the Mad King Aerys, only her mother, who had been with child and her older brother Viserys had survived the Sack of King's Landing. Rhaella had been set away to Dragonstone by her husband-brother in an attempt to protect her, yet she died when bringing forth Daenarys into the world.

Tarynn had learnt the history of the Targaryen Dynasty, admittedly she had some trouble remembering the details of certain aspects of the past but she could reiterate the general facts readily enough.

"She is old enough to give birth then she is old enough to die," Tarynn winced at his words and she felt someone's hand on her wrist, she looked down to her right, which was where Renly sat. He looked at her apologetically, but his countenance was strange, as if he was apologising for something other than Robert's complete disregard of a child's life. "We must be rid of her before this she-devil spawns another."

There were mixed opinions, Varys silently agreed, as did the Maester and Littlefinger, but her father and Renly voiced words of compassion for the young girl whose life was currently in the hands of an extremely vengeful King of Westeros.

"Robert if you would just listen to yourself…"

Robert's fist came crashing down on the table, bits of wood splintered, "I am doing this for Lyanna Ned, I promised to get rid of those Targaryen scum because of what they did to your sister, my betrothed. I will not rest until the rest of the Targaryen inbreeds have been discarded. You should be grateful; I am avenging the death of your father, your brother, Lyanna…"

"Daenerys played no part in Aerys machinations."

"You are my Hand Ned, but I am your King. You do as I command." There was a brief silence before she watched her father's indignant nature simmer down as he complied with the King's wishes. "Now. All of you leave me; I wish to write this letter myself with Tarynn." The men began to stand, Tarynn was frozen to the chair, and she did not want to be left alone in the room with just this grossly ignorant man for company. Her father lingered behind until Robert barked more orders at him, "Leave Ned, you will get your own copy of this letter I assure you. And no doubt your daughter will give you an accurate detailed version of what happened later. My steward will guide you to the Tower of the Hand…"

"I know where the Tower is," He turned from Robert and towards Tarynn, "I want to see you immediately after you have finished with the letters." She nodded her acknowledgement before focusing her eyes on the King, offering him her complete attention. She expected it to start off with the subject of the letters immediately, but perhaps that was too much to ask.

"Does your father ever talk about Lyanna, his sister?"

Tarynn sighed, dipping her quill into more ink, "No, he doesn't talk much about the past…"

"She was beautiful, an amazing horsewoman, a fighter… I've seen how you ride Tarynn. You remind me of her…" The King sat back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head.

Tarynn remembered noting before the fact that even though the King was overweight and he struggled to fit his immense size into a normal size chair, traces of the handsomeness that people often used to describe him when depicting him during the Rebellion still existed. She was almost sure that with the right plan and willpower to lose the heavy stones that weighed him down that he would once again be the young warrior that rebelled against the Mad King Aerys. However the King was obnoxious and stubborn, he loved his wine and women too much.

"Please your Majesty, the sooner that we write these letters the sooner our duty will be done."

"You talk to me just like your father does... What do you call those brightly feathered birds that come from Pentos?"

"Parrots?"

"Yes Parrots? You... Parrot your father. But you are right, never thought I would say that a woman was right, let's get this out of the way then.

Tarynn made a brief silent prayer to the Old Gods, a prayer of forgiveness and patience, she was after all sealing the last of the Targaryen's fate.


	16. Chapter 16

I know its been a little while since I've uploaded a chapter, but I have been annoyingly busy these past few weeks. But good things do come to those who wait. This chapter took me forever to write, I kept on changing little bits and one time I just started all over again because i wasn't happy with it. What can I say I'm a perfectionist. Thank you to all the reviews, favourites and your patience. It brings a smile to my face truly! So keep on telling me what you think, I greatly appreciate it :)

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 16.

The King had been very open with the problems that his Kingdom faced. She listened intently as King Robert Baratheon, 1st of his name, spilled all the secrets of court intrigue to an 18 year old girl. It had been, of course, due to the wine which kept appearing in ice cold flagons at the foot of the table. After his 5th cup of the beautiful Dornish red that he kept pouring down his throat he had dismissed her, along with the finished letters that Tarynn had written during the King's monologue.

She had stood and he had drunkenly reached for her hand, he had brought it up to his lips but had passed out before he had kissed it. Her fingers slipped from his grasp and when a maid appeared Tarynn directed her to find some guards in order to bring the paralytic ruler of the Seven Kingdoms to his rooms. The girl didn't even seem phased that her King was passed out on the table amidst rolls of parchment and bottles of ink. It must be a common occurrence to see the king in such a state.

She waited for a few more moments, but departed at the tell tale sound of heavy boots stomping up the corridor. She slipped past the guards as they came into the small council room and headed back up towards the throne room, hoping that her father had sent someone to guide her to him and her new rooms. When she emerged, no one was there, the hall was eerily empty. The tapestries that hung on the walls were rich in colour, depicting Robert's victory against the Targaryens. But what captured her attention was the throne, a deep grey steel, a thousand swords and daggers looked to have been melted into one in order to create the legendary seat. She approached it and ran her fingers over one of the blades that protruded out of the arm of the throne. She was shocked when she found out that the blades were still sharp.

"Magnificent, isn't it? Quite a few Targaryen kings sat on that crude example of metal work; it will forever be a symbol of their reign, no matter how hard our glorious king tries to wipe away their stain."

Tarynn froze, her body tensing as the voice floated through the air, his voice had a profound effect on her, it sent an unwelcome chill into her bones as she turned reluctantly to face him. He was at the bottom of the stairs, one foot upon the step as if he was going to climb the last few steps to her but had decided against it.

"Toby, are you here to escort me to my rooms?"

"In sense, but first your father requested to see you." She clenched the letters tightly in her hand, "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?"

She could still remember the way he dug the heel of his palm into the small of her back, and the menacing tone is his voice. "What do you want?"

"I thought it was plainly obvious," he smiled and his face morphed into that of Theon's for a brief second. He reached out to her, expecting her to take his hand. She moved past him, her skirts dragging across the cold surface of the steps. He closed his hand into a fist, and sighed almost inaudibly. "Have I done something to offend you my Lady?"

She remained quiet; she was annoyed with him, annoyed that he expected just to return to her good graces when he had acted so repulsively towards her. However she had been thankful that his presence had deterred whatever Littlefinger had had in mind. She waited patiently as he moved to open one of the doors. "You can't stay silent forever."

_No. I can't, but until I receive an apology from you I will not speak one word._

She remained quiet, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he heaved open the door. She passed through it into a courtyard, a little way away was a tower that reached up into the sky, connected to it was a large building that stretched along one of the walls of the Red Keep, several windows were open and Tarynn could have sworn that she caught a glimpse of Sansa's red hair.

Toby walked ahead of her, his hand on his sword as he moved among the servants that populated the yard. A few soldiers were practising their fighting techniques with a large burly man in a gold cloak watching over them, his arms folded across his chest. The majority of the servants that she had passed were women; in their arms they carried bundles of linen or baskets of clothing.

"Always busy at this time of day," Toby looked back at her, "Still not talking to me?" She looked away from him and his confident green eyes, "I'll take the silence as a yes then."

He took her by the arm, steering her round a flurry of people and to a door, he opened it, checked his surroundings before pushing her inside.

"Toby what do you think you're…"

He placed a finger against her lips, "Sssh, wouldn't want someone to find Lady Tarynn Stark in store room with a lowly soldier now would we?"

She pushed his hand away indignantly; the proximity of the small room had caused Toby to lean against her. "Toby please, my father will be wondering where I am."

He pulled at the end of her braid and the leather band slipped out, slowly he began to loosen Tarynn's hair until It fell, bushy and curly to the small of her back once more. "I like it when your hair is down." His green eyes glowed in the darkness, he leant in close to her, his voice eerily quiet, and "I suppose you want an apology." His hand ran down her side and her breath caught in her throat. "I can show you how much I am sorry, if you wanted." His voice grew thicker, laden down with only what she could describe as desire.

He pushed against her, his leg moving between her own, causing her skirts to bunch up. She placed her hands against his chest, in a feeble attempt to push him away. "Toby please… I can't… I don't…" His hand settled on her breast he squeezed it gently.

"You want me Tarynn, I know you do. I've seen this before. The quiet, bookish girl always succumbs to what her heart wants."

Something snapped inside Tarynn at that precise moment, she realised that Toby wasn't as kind and thoughtful, wasn't as honest as she had at first thought. But also that he wasn't what her heart wanted.

_The Hound was right; I was such a fool to ever doubt him. Toby only wants what's between my thighs._

She gasped in shock when Toby began to kiss her neck; she had often heard the whores, whenever she had wandered into the town in Winterfell, talk of how pleasurable it was to be kissed there. But it felt wrong to Tarynn. She pushed Toby away, stronger this time, and he stumbled back clearly in shock, she opened the door and looked down briefly, realising that Toby had unlaced his breeches pre-emptively. Bile rose in her throat as she left Toby in the store room, closing the door behind her. She half ran, half walked through the yard towards the tower that she had previously assumed had been the tower of the Hand. Luck was with her when she noticed a gold symbol beside the door. She opened it before running up the stairs, holding up her skirts. When she reached the top she stopped, taking a moments breath. Before her lay a corridor, doors were situated along its length on both sides, one of the doors were open. She approached it and looked into a room.

It was beautifully decorated, in rich blues and creams, a large bed wrought out of dark wood occupied the majority of the space but there were two archways that led into different parts of the chamber. A girl was hunched over a chest at the foot of the bed, pulling out various items, books, quills, ink pots; Tarynn's items.

"Bronte?"

The girl stood and turned round, "Oh, Lady Tarynn, I did not hear you enter. I though one of your personal guards were escorting you to Lord Stark."

"He got… Caught up with something. Please, would you direct me to my father's quarters?"

"Yes my Lady, if you would." Bronte gestured to the door, and together they left Tarynn's new rooms. They only went a short ways and up a few steps to reach where her father's new offices were. She knocked on the door, and stood back. Ser Jory passed her with a smile and a nod and she replied in kind. When she heard her father's gruff voice "Enter" she pushed open the door and entered her father's new rooms.

Her father sat at a desk his squire running around and righting everything, she bid goodbye to Bronte quietly before moving over to where her father sat pouring over numerous pieces of paper. There was a large heavy tome as well, balanced precariously on the edge. She couldn't make out the entire title as it was faded, but she made out 'Baratheon'.

"Ah Tarynn, so glad that you have decided to make an appearance."

"I apologise father, the king spent a long time mulling over what he wanted to be mentioned within the letter."

"Do you have a copy of it?"

She held up the folded parchment briefly before setting it down on the table in front of her father. He picked it up, unfolded it and began to read its contents.

"The king has never been one for subtlety." Her father rubbed his forehead and dumped the letter back onto the table.

"He has mentioned that he would want it done in front of others, perhaps in the form of a poisoned chalice or one of the faceless men."

"I will speak to Robert, she is only a girl and I don't think she is a threat to Westeros."

"Father, the king is adamant in his decision; he wants her humiliated and culled before anything gets out of hand."

"He wants her culled... She is but a girl, not an animal. The king has been known to make brash decisions, I'll talk to him Tarynn but for now you need to get ready for dinner, we dine at sundown."

Inside her heart plummeted, she had wanted time to explore the keep, to learn its secrets, search the library that she had heard of. But no, instead she would need to use the next few hours to make herself look presentable in order to feast with the king and his brood.

She groaned and her father looked up at her, "You know I can't decide who you remind me of most." She looked at him and he stood. "What is wrong my darling?"

She shrugged, "I'm worried."

"About?"

"Marrying."

Her father moved round the desk, taking her hands in his, "I know that I have been talking about you being married but that's only because your mother and I didn't have you betrothed at an earlier age. It will strengthen my stance in this cursed city to have you as a connection to an family that has a stake in King Landing."

"So a Baratheon or a Tyrell?"

"Well those are the ones who have members around your age, if you weren't fussed you could be betrothed to a…"

"No, no one younger father."

"Renly Baratheon seems like the best candidate… To be honest I had hoped that you had seen through Theon's faults and had married him. It would have strengthened my connections to the Greyjoys considerably, seeing as how Theon would have become ruler of the Iron Islands and with his wife being a Stark, I could have directly influenced what was going on… Write to him Tarynn."

_Why are you doing this to me father?_

"What about the Tyrell?"

"Willas? He is a cripple Tarynn."

"Cripple or no, tell me about him."

Her father let go of her hands, "He is a breeder, breeding the finest hawks and horses and very intellectual. He is also heir to house Tyrell being Mace Tyrell's eldest son."

Tarynn mulled over the thought, Willas seemed ideal, true he was a cripple, and yes he was older than her by a fair few years, but he appeared to share the same interests as her. If she had to be married to anyone, then perhaps this Tyrell wouldn't be so bad.

"Perhaps send him a letter father?"

"I suppose, if Renly is not suitable." Her father moved to the window, "You need not think of this now Tarynn, I will sort it out. You must go get ready for dinner. I will have someone send for you shortly."

Tarynn nodded, before turning and leaving her father's quarters, she closed the door behind her and headed towards her rooms.

When she reached them, Bronte was adding wood to the fire.

"Bronte? What are you doing? The weather is too hot for a fire."

"It's so that your hair dries quicker my Lady, it is an expense but a necessary one, and your bath is ready for you."

Tarynn entered the cold white marbled bathroom; the bath was not a metal tub like in Winterfell but a marble one, set in the floor. It was filled with hot water. She undressed, handing her clothes to Bronte who disappeared from the room with them. She took off her undergarments before stepping into the hot water.

The warmth spread through her veins and the muscles in her back relaxed as she lowered herself into the water. The marble was slick against her skin, she ran her hand over her back, realising that there were small bumps dotting her skin, her spots were coming back to haunt her. She called for Bronte, who came hurtling in with a small pile of towels. She hung one over a rail that was beside the bath, and took the smaller one towards Tarynn.

"My Lady if you wrap your hair in this I will be able to scrub down your back."

Tarynn didn't know how long she spent in the bath, but when she emerged, wrapped in just a towel, a piece of parchment was lying on her chest of drawers that resided beneath the window.

She picked it up, and read what had been written on it in untidy block capitals.

GODSWOOD, AFTER YOU HAVE DINED.

It hadn't been signed, and Tarynn did not recognise the scrawl. She put it back down on the dresser and dropped her towel. She moved towards the fire allowing the heat to dry the rest of her off.

When Bronte re-emerged Tarynn had been sitting in her underclothes beside the fire, the sky had begun to fade to pink, dusk was settling in.

"Lady Tarynn your dress."

Tarynn looked up from the burning embers of the fire towards Bronte who held up a pale grey, almost silver dress. The cut of the front was a little low, and Tarynn eyed it wearily.

"Where did you get this from?"

"It is one of the dresses that Queen Cersei commissioned for you."

Tarynn picked up the hem of the skirt, "Remind me to thank our most gracious Queen." Tarynn scoffed, "Do you know who sent me this note?"

"No my Lady, Teddy… I mean Tedius, handed it to me earlier. He didn't say who gave it to him only that Lady Tarynn Stark should have it."

"Hmm. Most peculiar… I suppose I should get dressed then."

"Would you like me to curl your hair? Sara who does the Queen's hair taught me how to do it."

Tarynn gazed over the slender young girl with her straw like blonde hair, she smiled, "That would be lovely Bronte, and please call me Tarynn when we're alone."

"Okay… Tarynn."

When Bronte had finished with her hair, and Tarynn had managed to squeeze into the restricting dress, she had looked into the looking glass that stood to the right of her bed. Her breasts were squashed quite painfully together, and her waist had been made smaller through the use of a tight whalebone corset. As she stared at her reflection she realised that she did not recognise herself. The curls, the tight dress… Gone were the simple braids and dresses that often got covered in dirt. She was now in the realm of vanity and it made Tarynn a little bit sad.

Bronte uncovered a charm attached to a grey piece of ribbon.

"A gift."

Tarynn sat on the edge of her bed as Bronte fastened the choker around her neck, it matched her other pendants, the locket and shard of glass perfectly. The charm was that of a wolf.

"Who…"

"It came with the note; I took it so that I could see what dress would match it."

"Oh…" She should be annoyed, or even angry that Bronte had taken it without permission, but she was so enamoured with her new piece of jewellery that she couldn't find it within herself to tell off Bronte. Instead she simply said, "Thank you."

Tarynn stood, and slipped into a pair of satin shoes. She was smoothing down the front of her dress when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

It creaked open revealing her father, behind him were Sansa and Arya. Sansa gasped at the sight of Tarynn.

"Tarynn you look beautiful! Doesn't she Arya?"

Arya had been forced to wear a dress made from a rich purple fabric, "I suppose so."

Tarynn looked up to her father, "Yes, I agree with Sansa. But come, we must go join the king for the feast that he has decided to hold in our honour."

Sansa took Tarynn's hand, smiling widely. For Sansa being in this city was a dream came true, and Tarynn had at first felt the same. But the novelty of being in the Red Keep was fast wearing off if she was going to have to attend feasts and parties every night.

* * *

When they reached the dining hall, Tarynn was surprise by the size of it. It was huge, a grand table stretched along the length which was laden down with various types of food. People in elaborate dresses and suits were sitting down at the places. She looked around the hall, noting the tapestries, but it was the shadowy figure in the corner that caught her eye. He wore plain garb, a badge of three snarling hounds pinned to his chest. He stood with his arms crossed, but his grey eyes glowed when their eyes met.

Tarynn could not tear her gaze away, the Hound smiled as his eyes dropped to take in what she was wearing and suddenly she felt very self conscious. She dropped her gaze and looked down the table, the king sat at the end, a lecherous grin covering his face when he spotted Tarynn. Her eyes then moved onto Renly, who was politely gesturing to her to come to him. She found the willpower to move, albeit woodenly to the youngest Baratheon. He drew out her chair with a flourish, she sat and he pushed it in before sitting down beside her. He took her hand, raising it to his lips.

"You look extremely beautiful tonight Lady Tarynn."

"Thank you, Lord Renly, you are looking perfectly handsome tonight also."

"You are very kind." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Your father has offered me your hand in marriage."

Tarynn's chest tightened even more, "Has he."

"Yes, I was just wondering your opinion on the matter my Lady, if we are to be bound by the bonds of marriage I would very much like it to be between to consenting adults."

_Why all the pressing questions?_

Tarynn went for the easy answer, and the one that would buy her more time.

"I will leave it to you to decide, I will bear you no ill will if you chose to decline."

_Please decline, please decline. _

"I will think on it my Lady, our marriage will definitely strengthen ties, and I will be as good a husband as I possibly can be."

Tarynn watched with great interest as Renly looked up briefly to look at Loras Tyrell, his own squire. It was only a small look, but still it spoke volumes. Tarynn felt that Renly had a secret and one that she didn't care if he kept.

If Renly was to be unfaithful to her if they were married, then what's to say that Tarynn could not find pleasure in other ventures also? It was an interesting prospect, and one that Tarynn would not be entirely unhappy with.

"I have no doubt that you would be Lord Renly."

"Please just Renly, and I will give your father my answer soon. I will also seek you out to tell or ask you directly."

"Thank you Renly, and please call me Tarynn."

_Even if I don't marry Renly, which I hope is the case, I am sure that we will have a fast friendship._

There was the sound of someone tapping a knife against a goblet; a speech was to be made.

"Now, this feast is to honour my new hand, Lord Eddard Stark," There was a shout from someone from the far end of the table, "And his lovely daughters who he has brought with him to our glorious King's Landing, Tarynn, Sansa and Arya. I wish him luck in trying to sort out my affairs for he's going to need it!" The king started laughing deep and jolly, his wife was as stern faced as ever however the rest of the table erupted into rounds of applause and laughter.

Tarynn could feel her cheeks flush, especially when one of the young boys placed a flower on her napkin. Her face went even redder when Renly took it and placed it in her hair before kissing her on the cheek; seems that he held his drink just as badly as his brother.

She managed to excuse herself when the jesters began appearing. She had looked over the table at Arya, who had taken to flicking food over at some of the more pompous nobles that made up King Robert's court. She had motioned to Arya to stand up, the young girl had pouted, finishing off the evening by pelting a young boy full in the face with some creamed pudding before standing. Tarynn too stood up, caught her father's eye and gestured to Arya mouthing the words 'I'm going to put her to bed'. Her father nodded and with her youngest sister in tow she had managed to escape the escapade that her father and Sansa were still being subjected to.

"Why did I have to leave the feast?" Arya's whining echoed down the empty halls.

"Because you are nine years old and you need to sleep. I'm going to bed too Arya."

"You're strange Tarynn."

"Thanks Arya." Tarynn sighed tugging her sister along with her.

"No, it's because you're not like Sansa, but you're not like me either. Why do you read so many books?"

"Because little sister sometimes knowledge is better than beauty, and being able to talk your way out of a confrontation is better than fighting."

Arya fell silent for a time, and as Tarynn turned round another corridor she began to feel more relaxed now that the feast was way behind her. She hated the crowded dining hall, and the noise of a hundred people talking at once. The solitary, quietness of the hallways suited her just fine.

"Tarynn?"

"Yeah Arya…" Tarynn looked up.

"You shouldn't be wandering the Keep's corridors so late at night on your own, here allow me to escort you."

Toby stepped out of the shadows, an easy grin on his face but his eyes were cold.

"Toby, that's quite alright I think we can find our way."

"No I insist."

"And I insist that we don't need your help. Please, join the feast you deserve some time to yourself."

She stood slightly in front of Arya, afraid that Toby would lash out.

He glanced at Arya before focusing on Tarynn, his eyes narrowed.

"If that is what you command my Lady then good night."

He pushed past her, the look in his eyes were menacing and quietly threatening. She had insulted and rejected him, just like Theon, Tarynn surmised that he wasn't used to rejection.

She shook it off however, and gripped Arya's hand tighter.

"What was wrong with him?"

"Oh I imagine a whole range of things Arya, but none that you need worry about."

She smiled at her baby sister, and Arya for the first time in weeks smiled back and hugged her. "King's Landing is going to be fun, isn't it?"

"Well if it isn't then we'll make it."

* * *

When Tarynn had seen to Arya and made sure that she had gotten into her night clothes and was tucked safely away in bed, she decided that now would be the best time to visit the Godswood, before her father and Sansa got back. She didn't have time to change but she did put on her leather boots instead of the flimsy satin slippers that she had had to wear for the feast. She closed her bedroom door quietly and slipped down the tower, pressing herself into shadowy alcoves whenever she thought she heard someone approaching.

When she burst into the yard she had to gain her bearings. Firstly she did not know where the Godswood was, and secondly she only had the light of the moon to guide her. She walked around the tower, straining her eyes when she spotted it, a thin path set between two stone walls, behind it stretched a small wood. The Godswood.

Tarynn headed towards it, pushing open the gate and admitting herself into the sacred area. The quiet sound of the owls and the leaves rustling calmed her as she made her way to the centre. The Godswood in King's Landing was not as large as the Godswood in Winterfell. However the tree rose magnificently towards the heavens, its white face leaking with red sap, making it look like it was crying. Tarynn knelt on the ground before the tree, and uttered a simple prayer.

"Protect me Old Gods, protect my family also as we venture into this strange place. Show us schemes or plots that have been raised against us before they are acted upon and keep us in your sights."

She touched the water and it rippled and shimmered in the moonlight.

"Tarynn…"

She stood and turned.

"Sandor? It was you?"

"I had to see you, and how can I do that when your pet is always by your side." Sandor Clegane stood with his feet firmly apart, he was wearing just a loose shirt the front of which revealed much of his defined chest. In fact he was wearing much the same as when Tarynn and he met in the Godswood along the King's Road.

"He is not my pet…"

"Call him what you like, he practically begs to be pampered and loved when what he really needs is a kick to send him on his way," He took a swig of wine from his flask.

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm always drunk wolf," He laughed deep and raspy, "Dulls out the pain and the screams... I see you're wearing my little gift, suits you quiet well." His eyes glanced over her rather revealing dress.

"Yes," She brushed the wolf pendent with her fingertips, "It's beautiful thank you."

"I don't need thanks, pretty women deserve pretty gifts no? And you're pretty enough, some may even say beautiful." He took another swig. "So where is your pet bastard? Put to bed with a saucer of milk, or is he waiting in your bed chambers?"

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "No, he isn't. Why do you think he's bedding me?"

"Maybe because he acts so outrageously in your presence. Never though that a wolf bitch and a lion bastard would wind up becoming lovers."

His comment stung, "What do you want Sandor? Or have you just come to insult me?"

"Huh," He took another drink, "I'm not insulting you, I'm trying to make you see past his bullshit. He's not right for you, his arms are not where you belong."

"Why are you so cryptic? Why do you have to be so frustrating?" She flung her arms out with a sigh of exasperation, "What is it that you want Sandor, why did you bring me here?" She placed a hand on her forehead.

"Because it's where you belong." He took another draught from his flask, almost for courage.

"What?"

"It's where you belong," He moved closer tossing the flask aside, he brushed some of Tarynn's curls off her shoulder and she stopped breathing. She could smell him; his scent was a mix of sweat, wine and unknown musk. It was intoxicating.

"I don't understand Sandor… I…"

He cupped her face with his hand, forcing her to look up at his scar, she could see the bone of his jaw and sections of it still oozed red but she wasn't scared and she wasn't repulsed. Somewhere deep inside her she knew that this was right, but she still wanted to restrain it. She wanted control.

"You belong here, with me." His lips brushed over her cheek gently, his stubble scratching against her skin. He softly placed gentle kisses down her jaw line before pulling back. Her breath hitched as she looked into his eyes, those burning grey pools which she had become so enamoured with. His pratically growled at her, "I want you Tarynn."

His lips pressed against hers, they were so different to Toby's, as if Sandor was kissing a woman for the first time, they were rough and insistent. She stood still for a moment, her mind trying to catch up, to make sense of her situation.

_Listen to your heart, just once, forget about trying to analyse the situation._

She melted into his embrace, looping her arms around his neck, he dragged her closer to him and her chest heaved against his own. A fire crawled across her skin when his tongue slipped into her mouth and she sighed into it.

His fingers fumbled at the nape of her neck, brushing the hair there gently sending electric jolts down her spine.

She was going to regret this, if word got out… She could be ruined. It was wrong, but at the same time it felt so right, being here, with Sandor. Forgetting about her duty, forgetting what she was supposed to be.

But this indulgence will surely bring more problems into her life, won't it?

_When you play with fire, you get burned._


	17. Chapter 17

Its so hard trying to write Sandor in correspondence with Tarynn. I still want him to be the angry, drunk, cursing man that we've grown to love but at the same time I want him to show his softer side. Frustrating! But still here is another chapter!

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 17.

His kiss was harsh and unrelenting. His hands were tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck and her body was pressed closed to his, her breasts heaving against his hard chest. The air around them was still, but the croak of crickets and the hooting of owls was the symphony which accompanied the heady summer night. When she withdrew from him in order to breath, his hand fell to the small of her back, rubbing it idly in small circles.

She struggled to catch her breath; the corset was crushing her ribs. When her body had calmed herself, and the warm night air was once again entering her lungs properly. She sighed, looking up at Sandor.

"What have we done?"

He looked away from her, above her head and into the foliage, when he responded his voice was distant, his eyes betraying nothing.

"Something incredibly foolish... Seven hells, your father will have my head for this, not that he doesn't already want it."

_Yes, you murdered Mycah. Ran him down in cold blood, and yet here I am, in your arms. I swear I should be running at the sight of you but I just can't bring myself to do it. _

Her voice was quiet when she responded, "No-one can know of this, of us."

"Embarrassed are you wolf? For kissing a maimed dog?" His laugh was deep and cruel, "Lions kiss better is that it?"

"Don't you understand what my father would do to you if he found out? By the Gods you can be so frustrating. We can't be open about this…"

She was cut off by Sandor's warm, rough lips upon hers again. When they parted he practically growled at her, "I don't care what people may think Tarynn. If people know that you belong to me, they won't mess with you. And that little fucker Toby would leave you alone."

She smiled at Sandor's simple way of looking at it, "You better start discussing with my father the dowry you'll be giving him for me then." She touched his scar, her fingertips gently caressing the burned skin, he leaned into her touch slightly, "I won't be able to belong to you."

He said nothing but after a little while he reached up and covered her hand with his own. "Maybe not, but I'll try my hardest to make it so." She smiled sadly, and he gripped her chin, pulling her closer before placing a searing kiss against her lips, he mumbled, "You should return, before someone realises your missing."

"I thought you didn't care what people thought?" He looked down at her coldly, and she laughed. Her fingertips brushing back a strand of his hair that had fallen out of place.

"Well until I can be free with my affections for you," He swept her feet out from underneath and caught her in his arms, hoisting her up. "You need to play the part of a noble Lady of the King's court, and that means being in bed at the proper times."

"I've well and truly broken my curfew then," She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her out of the Godswood, looking over his shoulder she said a final silent prayer to the solemn white tree that had watched over the beginning of hers and Sandor's relationship.

When they reached the yard, Sandor put her down, his hand resting on her hip a little longer then necessary. "I don't want you to go back to them."

She kissed his cheek, "I have to, as you said I have my part to play, as do you."

He took her hand, holding it up to his chest. "Don't become like your sister, don't start repeating what they say. You're a wolf, not a bird." The air was eerily silent, and Tarynn half expected someone to see them. "Promise me. Don't fall into their trap. Not like I have done, or how Sansa has. I see her looking at Joffrey. He is not the prince that she is expecting him to be. "

"You fear for her?"

"I have seen the prince grow up, he is my 'master," He said the word bitterly; "I've seen what he is capable of. He is a little shit to put it lightly."

Tarynn looked down, "Nothing I say will change Sansa's mind, she is enamoured with him, head over heels in foolish love for the boy." She could feel the irony in her words, she could also claim that kissing Sandor was foolish as well, foolish and dangerous.

"Just watch her, watch him. I'll do the same." She went to kiss his cheek but he stopped her and chastely kissed her on the lips instead. "If you can slip away come to the Godswood. No one goes there once the sun is set."

"How do you know?"

"Where else am I supposed to drink in peace? Old Gods scare those who follow the new. But I've seen enough horrors, so a couple of spirits aren't going to scare me."

She smiled, "If I can, I will. But I can't promise it."

"Well go, wolf. Go to your bed and your dreams."

She squeezed his hand once more before letting go of him. She felt a sudden emptiness at not having him close to her as she ran briskly across the yard and to the Hand's tower. When she turned to glance at him once last time he wasn't there. Her heart slowed as she opened the door, the taste of Sandor still on her lips, and his scent still on her skin.

"Sandor"

When he had kissed her, taken her into his arms and kissed her, a fire had raged; burning his skin, crawling up his spine. He hated fire and yet she was fire, she was dangerous and uncontainable, but she made him feel alive. She could never be solely his and he almost punched a tree in frustration as he walked back into the Godswood to retrieve the flask that he had tossed aside. He had caught wind of Lord Stark's plans to wed his daughter to a Tyrell, or even worse Renly Baratheon. King Robert had a loose tongue when drunk.

He had just gone and made everything even worse, which he was often prone to do. Why did he have to start to have feelings about a woman he could never lay a claim to? Tarynn had joked about him giving her father a dowry for her hand but he had seriously thought that maybe it was possible. As he held her in his arms he began to plan how he would ask, what he could offer Lord Stark in exchange for the hand of his eldest daughter.

_A loving relationship with a killer, a tiny room in the Red Keep, grandchildren that would bear the name of Clegane and be shunned for the rest of their lives just because they were related to the House that wasn't really a house in all honesty and had sired brutes such as myself. Oh yeah, and a monster of an uncle who's a maniac and got his fucking kicks out of torturing people._

He had nothing, he was nothing. When he had kissed Tarynn, partly because of impulse another because of the drink, he had not expected her to return it. The last time he had tried to she had rejected him, and that had made him angry. So unexplainably angry but he had managed to control it. Tarynn had a strange calming effect on him.

The flask was in the grass; he stooped and picked it up.

_What does she see in me?_

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the ground pools; his face hideously scarred stared back at him. He laughed hollowly. Even when he paid for prostitutes they always insisted in pleasuring him with their backs to him. He lifted his hand; the ghost of Tarynn's touch on that side of his burned face still remained. She hadn't been repulsed that he had kissed her. She was a strange one, but he was glad that she reciprocated his feelings.

He sighed.

_And wouldn't old stick up his rear Stark want to see Tarynn happy? Even if it meant having her married to a lowly Clegane?_

He stretched his arms, strangely happy about how tonight went, but at the same time worried for the future.

_Since when did the monster get the girl? Oh yeah, he doesn't._

*Tarynn*

They had been in King's Landing for a six days and her father had still not granted her permission to explore the city. He kept on telling her that she had a duty to attend the Queen and help with the preparations for the tourney and festival. When Tarynn had learned that the King was planning on throwing a tourney in honour of the Starks and her father's position as the new hand, she had almost groaned in despair. Tourneys were long and arduous affairs, dragging on for days, even weeks. And she would be expected to attend every single one.

She knew that her father didn't want such a ceremony, he didn't think that wasting thousands of dragons would solve anything apart from raise the moral of the people who dwell in the city. He was right of course, and Tarynn wholeheartedly agreed with him. Northmen were strong, hardy people. They did not hold tourneys or festivals because there was no point, there main focus in life was preparing for the inevitable cold seasons, winter is coming after all.

Arya was also growing restless, Tarynn had promised to take her to the markets that were held in the poorer districts of the city just to appease her. But still Arya's insistent questioning followed her, "When are we going" was a favourite and Tarynn simply did not have the answer. Still she saw her chance today, Sansa had gone with the Queen to pick out banner colours, and she had been left in charge of Arya. She saw an opportunity, and she took it.

"Father, I am sorry to bother you." Her father looked up from the missive he was reading gave her a wary look before returning to whatever news the piece of parchment contained, "Is it possible for Arya and I to go to the markets, after all I did promise her, and since we have no other obligations…"

"Yes, yes fine, take a few guards however." Her father waved his hand and she left promptly so that he didn't change his mind.

As she half ran half walked along the corridors to Arya's chambers her mind flickered to Sandor, they had spoken very little since their meeting in the Godswood but not a minute went by when she didn't think of him. They had stolen a couple of moments, a chaste kiss in an empty corridor, or a quick embrace in a secluded alcove but apart from that she hardly saw him. It was also becoming increasingly frustrating that her father was still pushing suitors and marriage onto her.

"Seven hells!" She half turned towards her father's rooms but changed her mind, she would have to try and squeeze Renly into her very tight schedule, he had something that he had wanted to show her later this evening.

_Right, Arya can have me for the day, Renly for dinner and the beginning of the evening and Sandor…_

"They had not really discussed when they would next meet; he had said in the Godswood but she just wanted to double check that he would definitely be there. She needed to speak to him at some point. Tarynn changed direction; instead she headed to the servants rooms.

"Bronte?"

A small voice answered from within one of the rooms, "I'm in here my Lady."

It was the girl's day off but Tarynn had one small errand that she wanted her to run.

"Sorry Bronte but could you please tell Arya to get a satchel and ask some guards to accompany us through the markets, she is to wait for me near the main gate. Also get her to bring my own bag."

"Yes my Lady." Bronte curtseyed before rushing off, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her. Tarynn sighed, running her hands through her hair as she decided to take the servants staircase in order to avoid anyone. She prayed that he would be in the yard, watching the soldier's drill, if not, then on the battlements. She also hoped that Joffrey would not be with him.

When she reached the bottom she burst through the door and scanned the bustling area, soldiers drilled against stuffed dummies, servants went about their daily chores and Sandor was no where to be seen. She sighed in frustration.

_Please be on the battlements, please, please, please._

She ran across to the large stone steps that wound up to the raised stone platform. Guards manned the wall religiously yet there was a secluded area from which you could see the whole city, this was one of Sandor's favourite places to drink. She had spoken to him briefly about the amount of alcohol he consumed but he had shrugged it off. Dulled the screaming he had told her.

When she reached the top she took a right and then crept around the corner of one of the guard towers, into a deserted part of the battlements, no one could see you up here and the entire city of King's Landing stretched out in front of you. It was a fantastic view.

Luck was with her when she turned the corner and saw Sandor sitting on the edge of the wall. Wine bottles littered the ground.

"Sandor?"

He turned to look up at her, his scarred face turned into a grin, anyone else would think it menacing or frightening, but she had grown use to it. She went to him, standing beside him. He pressed his face into her skirts, against the top of her legs. She almost blushed as a spike of desire ran through her being.

"Seven hells, you know I don't like you seeing me like this." She ran her hands through his hair, it was slick with grease.

"When was the last time you bathed?"

"I don't know… Can't remember."

She crouched, taking his face in her hands, "Go to the baths later, and then tonight meet me in the Godswood." She kissed him lightly before standing.

He caught her hand, holding it in his tight grip, "No. Meet me at the stables near the east gate. There is… Something I want to show you."

_You have something to show me as well?_

"Yeah, okay I think I can manage to get there without being seen."

He turned her hand around and kissed her palm, "Good, I'll see you later wolf." His voice was gruff and raspy.

She smiled before leaving him to his excessive drinking, she wanted to try and help him cut down. Maybe she could find some sort of incentive.

When she reached the gate, Arya was standing impatiently. Tarynn's satchel dangling out of her hand, with her was a couple of her father's personal guards and…

"Toby?"

"My Lady."

She kicked herself for not being more specific to Bronte about who she wanted guarding her and Arya as they walked the streets of King's Landing. And yet he was there, his arms crossed lazily like he didn't have a single care in the world. Hung loosely around his waist was a belt, attached to it a long sword. His grey cloak flowed over his shoulders, gracing the floor. She needed, wanted, an excuse. Anything to get rid of him, Sandor hadn't spoken much about Toby during the times that they had spent together but she knew that he hated his guts. And what with Toby's behaviour towards her especially in that storage room, Tarynn had reason enough to dislike him as well.

"I fear that we have enough guards as it is." She gestured to the other two northmen waiting patiently; she had grown up with these two, Desmond and Harwin. Both were more then capable of guiding Arya and herself through the streets. They did not need Toby to accompany…

"Toby told me that he knows a really good Blacksmith, he said he would take us to him. I want to see if any of the swords are better than my… Better than father's."

_Arya…_

Her younger sister looked up at her expectantly. The transition from Winterfell to King's Landing had been hard on her. Arya was expected to act like a lady even more now that she was constantly surrounded by the noble ladies of the court. She hadn't blended in well; Tarynn and Sansa on the other hand had been more or less smoothly accepted into the King's court. Sansa with her natural prettiness and charming countenance, and Tarynn because she knew how important it was to make friends with those of other houses so she had made the effort; it meant more support for the Starks. But Arya had been somewhat of an outcast these few days, constantly picking on Sansa, ignoring Tarynn whenever she asked for her to recite her Myrish alphabet over breakfast.

_She used to love our lessons together. But now she has become wild, like a caged animal desperate to be released._

She straightened Arya's braid before looking up at Toby. He stared back at her, his gaze even, green eyes alight. He had won, and he knew it. "And who is this renowned Blacksmith?"

"The one and only Tobho Mott."

"Even his name sounds cool, we have to see him definitely."

Tarynn rolled her eyes before turning to Desmond, "Please, go tell the stable boys that we'll be needing an extra horse." Desmond nodded curtly, threw a glance at Toby before moving away towards the three stable boys who were busy harnessing and saddling the horses.

"So Lady Arya, are you excited for your trip to the markets?"

Tarynn turned her attentions back to Toby, she restrained herself. Half of her wanted to tell him to stay away from her little sister, the other wanted her to rise above his stupid game of trying to worm his way into Arya's good books. Her little sister was always too trusting of outcasts and bastards, no wonder she was so close to Jon Snow.

Just thinking of Jon Snow reminded her of home, and in turn her thoughts turned to her mother, Bran, Rickon, Maester Luwin, Nan, Gerta, all of them. Her heart ached to return, but she had to stay here. She had an obligation to see through the season and to get married if someone asked for her hand and her father accepted, she also had Sandor now. She couldn't just leave him. She didn't want to leave him. One day she knew she would have to, but hopefully that was at some point in the distant future.

She had written two separate letters, one to Maester Luwin, Gerta and the rest of her friends. The other to her Mother and family, she had also included a letter written for Theon only. Against her better judgement her father had forced her to settle whatever dispute they held between them.

"_Even if you cannot stand the sight of him at this moment in time Tarynn, the future may be different. Don't judge a book by its cover."_

His words had been salt in her wounds, and she had half a mind to tell him exactly what Theon was capable of. But she hadn't, mainly because what good would it do now? Unless Theon rode down to King's Landing to 'claim' her and then drag her back kicking and screaming to the Iron Islands, then there was no point in retelling events that happened in the past when he wasn't even around.

"Yes, I am. I want to buy a whetstone."

"A whetstone? What would a young lady need a whetstone for?"

"Uh, to… Uh… Add to my… Collection."

Toby crossed his arms and leant back, "You collect stones?"

"Uh huh."

Tarynn smiled despite herself at Arya's obvious lie, her eyes met Toby's and he grinned. In that brief moment she remembered why she had befriended Toby in the beginning. The care free attitude, the lazy grin, he had been so very different to the Hound and it had been a refreshing contrast. She had also needed a friend in King's Landing, one that wasn't sworn to protect the bratty Prince. Toby had been the perfect answer. But now she had Bronte, and the new woman that she had recruited from off the streets.

She was still getting used to her new maid, she spoke very little but Tarynn understood. It was intimidating being around those who you always thought were above you in life. She felt the same way whenever she met a Maester; she truly respected them and was awestruck at their vast amounts of knowledge.

"Maybe I'll help you look for one."

Harwin stepped forward, resting a hand on Toby's shoulder, "You're stepping out of line, a guard's duty is to _guard_. Remember that."

Tarynn looked at Arya who had narrowed her eyes at Harwin, and she sighed, she waved Harwin off. "Please, its quite alright. It's as much your day to experience the city as it ours Harwin. I will not hold it against you if you wish to interact with us, after all our guards are our friends, not our vessels or servants. We are northmen no? Lets not full under the influence of Southrons and how they treat their soldiers and guards."

"My Lady?" She turned and accepted the reins that Desmond held out to her. She had a bay roan, a beautiful creature, the colour of rich brown. Arya was given a dapple grey pony. She had wanted a horse, and Tarynn wouldn't have minded her riding one but their father had insisted that even though Arya could ride as well as Tarynn she would still remain on a pony whilst travelling through the city.

She mounted the horse and turned it round to face the direction of the gates. When Arya, Toby, Harwin and Desmond were also mounted she gestured for them to make a start for the markets. Harwin signalled to the soldier in the gate tower and the heavy wooden gates creaked open slowly. Once there was room for a couple of horses to past side by side, Tarynn urged her horse into a brisk trot before galloping out of the Red Keep and into the winding streets below.

The sun streamed down them as they entered the city of King's Landing. Tall houses teetered above them, and scantily clad women stood outside some of the doors. She averted her eyes, yet she knew that Harwin. Desmond and Toby would be openly gawping at them. Yet when she looked at Toby briefly he wasn't looking at the whores that were calling to them, he was looking at her. His green eyes alight.

She shook it off. And instead thought of what Sandor might be doing.

_Drinking and following Prince Joffrey around most likely._

She spurred her horse on and away from Toby, maybe the wares and hustle and bustle of the markets will distract her.

*Sandor*

"Will you ride in the Tourney of the Hand dog?"

The one and only Prince Joffrey was sat on a wall watching the guards practice their drills. His faithful dog stood next to him, his voice raspy when he responded.

"Might be that I will, my Prince."

The little shit's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stared at the men fighting, "Do you have a lady to give you a favour? My father says that all the noble ladies threw themselves at him just in the hopes of him taking their handkerchief as his good luck charm. What about that eldest Stark girl? Tarynn is it? Not a real beauty like her sister, but fair and pretty enough, mayhap I'll give her to you, as a reward when I'm king. You spent a lot of time with her on our journey home." Sandor clenched his mailed fist, "But then again what would she see in a hideous mongrel like you."

Sandor ignored the boy's words; his mind was elsewhere on the girl that was constantly in his thoughts day in day out. Maybe he will take part in the tourney, maybe he'll challenge Toby Hill to a joust and put an end to him that way. But would Tarynn hate him?

"Dog, fetch me Sansa Stark. Mother told me that I must spend more time with her."

Sandor dipped his head before stalking off to search the halls for Tarynn's younger sister. The little bird was beautiful, he gave her that, but she lacked the determination and intelligence that her elder sister possessed. She was also very keen to repeat whatever the Queen said, and hang onto Joffrey's every word. In all honesty he thought the girl selfish and extremely easy to fool, but he had promised Tarynn that he would watch over her.

He moved down the corridors, his footsteps heavy because of the iron boots he wore. In fact he was head to toe in armour, and that was how he preferred it, it made him more imposing, aggressive.

He found her sitting in one of the many courtyards. Swatches of fabric covering her lap, he cleared his throat.

"Prince Joffrey requests your presence."

She looked up at him, her eyes large and scared as she took in his appearance. He could see no trace of Tarynn in her face apart from the eyes. They were the same shade of blue. He laughed roughly and bitterly.

"Having a good look are you?"

"N-n-no! I wasn't… I apologise if I offended you ser."

"Ser? I am no knight. Don't ever call me that again." His voice was threatening her and violent

Her face paled and she nodded mutely. He gestured to her to follow him. He left the room, not bothering to check if she was following. He had promised Tarynn that he would watch her, but that was all, he had a reputation to uphold.

_A reputation that I'm going to end up ruining in order to be with Tarynn._


	18. Chapter 18

It's lovely looking through your emails and seeing new people favourite and follow this story, which is why I decided to let you all have a treat and release this chapter so soon after the last one. I will be busy again over the next few weeks, but I'm hoping to get maybe 2-3 updates out to you. Thanks for the support guys, and taking the time to read my work.

Stay sane,

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 18.

The markets were crowded with people of all ages, shapes and sizes. They swarmed over the wares like flies, but whenever Tarynn and Arya approached they parted. Staring at the fact that two noble ladies would grace their humble stalls with their presence. Tarynn smiled often, and made conversation with those flogging their wares. But there was one seller who gave Tarynn an uneasy feeling. The little old woman was sitting on a rickety stool behind a long table cluttered with jars of apothecary ingredients; however there was a chest filled with fragments of black glass, trinkets and an old tome. Its edges were worn, and more than a couple of pages had been dog-eared but Tarynn was drawn to it regardless of how it looked.

"That there is written in some of those foreigners language. You know from across the sea." The old woman clacked her rotting teeth together, "Aye girl, three coppers and its yours."

Tarynn looked across her other wares, her eyes settling on a chunk of dragonglass. She lifted her hand to touch her own. "I'll give you a gold dragon for the book and that piece of dragonglass."

The old woman's beady eyes narrowed as she gazed at Tarynn, "That's not something I hear everyday, obviously new to the whole haggling system." She squinted her eyes, her voice dropping to a deeper tone, "You, child, have some sort of aura around you, a presence, a capability to make other people listen to your words and act on them. But that's not all that you have within you, no. You're frightened of something, true you're worried about a great many things but there is one thing that truly chills you to the bones." The woman's face relaxed and she leant back, cackling, "But give me a gold dragon for my old wares, I'll sleep well tonight knowing that good Lady Tarynn Stark, the she-wolf of the north, paid for me to retire."

Tarynn exchanged a gold dragon for the book and the shard of dragonglass, she didn't have any coppers or stags, the nobility usually didn't deal with the lower types of currency. She reached for the dragonglass, "Thank…"

The old woman gripped her wrist hard, "I remember another girl, just like you. Came to Harrenhal when I was working as a servant there, she was a Stark. Full of determination, but she was always distant. Different from those around her. She shone like a dismal star, just as you do."

Tarynn pulled her hand away quickly, moving back a step into someone standing behind her. The person behind steadied her by gripping her elbow, "Are you okay Tarynn?"

It was Toby.

She looked up, and nodded, "Yes, yes I'm fine. Please tell Desmond and Harwin that we'll head for the blacksmith now. Also find Arya."

Toby's response was quiet, "As you command, you know… I have so enjoyed the time we have spent together." He pressed a small kiss on her head, it was a subtle move and no one had seen it. Well no one apart from the old crone who stood watching the ordeal. As Toby moved on, Tarynn shuddered in revulsion.

"I'd watch yourself around that one child, full of dark thoughts and schemes. Not one to be trusted."

"How do you know all this?" Tarynn was perplexed by this strange woman.

"How does the wolf know to bray at the moon? Or the caterpillar to spin a cocoon in order to change into a butterfly? I simply do, and I am warning you that you must be careful around the men who are in your life, especially that one. He is not what he seems."

The woman sat down again and closed her eyes she hummed a soft tune, a lullaby of some sort, it reminded Tarynn of something.

"_Will you sing to me father? To help me sleep?"_

"_You know I don't sing, my sweet, darling Tarynn."_

"_Then the tune, my lullaby."_

_She had fallen asleep to the sound of her father humming softly as he stroked her hair. The tune that had always kept the nightmares away._

"How do you know that tune?"

The woman cracked an eye open, "Inquisitive. You do realise that curiosity killed the cat. I came across this tune whilst caring for a dornish child back in my youth many, many moons ago. It is a Valyrian lullaby, one that asks for the evil spirits to leave the babe be, stay any waking dreams and to keep them from harm for as long as they may live."

"Lady Tarynn we are ready to depart when you are ready."

"I'm ready now Harwin." She turned to the old lady, her stomach churning and her mind throbbing with new thoughts and unanswered questions. "Thank you."

The woman smiled, showing off her brown teeth, "No, it is I who should be thanking you."

There was something behind the woman's words, Tarynn knew it. But the ancient woman just nodded, before closing her eyes again and humming the tune that Lord Eddard Stark used to hum to his eldest daughter.

Tarynn put the book and shard of glass in her satchel before turning away from the stall and to their horses. She mounted up and checked to see if Arya was okay.

"Arya? Did you buy anything?"

Arya nodded, "A whetstone… And I brought a gift for father; it's a letter opener, because he's always reading letters. It has a wolf on it."

"I'm sure he will love it Arya."

Toby led the way to the Blacksmith Tobho Mott, it was their last stop before returning to the Keep. Tarynn had wanted to visit the Sept, and the Maesters also but there wasn't enough time. They had to be back before mid-afternoon and already the sun was beginning to lower in the sky.

She pulled her hood up to keep the sun's rays off her face and Arya did the same. With their pale complexions, they were more likely to get burnt, and that wasn't a very slightly thing. As they rode down the main road, someone called her name.

"Tarynn Stark, fancy seeing you out and about in the city."

She looked up, only to see Renly Baratheon riding towards her. His black hair shiny, reflecting the sunlight. He grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. "I needed a breath of air; the Keep can be mighty restricting."

"Yes, well you'll love Storm's End. Surrounded by the sea and full of fresh air, it's a beautiful place to call home."

Tarynn eyed him warily, she had hoped that Renly might refuse her hand and that she would be able to consider Willas Tyrell instead, they had more shared interests. Her father had sent a correspondence to old Mace Tyrell and he had replied rather quickly, stating that a union between the Starks of the North and the Tyrells of the South would be a strong connection and that they will consider it, and ask Willas' views of being married to a woman many years his junior. That would of course mean that she would have to leave King's Landing for Highgarden, and the very thought of leaving Sandor behind sent her heart into a spasm, but at the end of the day her duty was first and foremost to her family. She couldn't be selfish, especially when her marrying would put her father in a stronger position.

_But I want to be selfish, I want to be with Sandor and travel the world. To learn its secrets, and see the countries whose languages I have learnt. But I can't betray my father; I love him too much to do that. And I can't leave my family, Robb, Sansa, Bran, Arya, Rickon, Mother… Their all counting on me to set an impression. I am the eldest; I must do my duty for winter is coming._

She smiled, she wasn't going to alienate him as there was still a chance that her father will force her to marry him, she didn't want to have an unhappy marriage. "I'm sure it's purely picturesque."

"It is, it is… Would you mind if I asked for your presence this evening in the small council room? I... there is something that I wish to tell you. I have already told your father that I wanted to see you. He did pass on the message?"

"Yes, he did. Renly are you alright?"

The youngest Baratheon looked pale, and the boy, Loras, his squire looked as if he might burst into tears.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine… Just if you would, the small council room, before we dine?"

She nodded, half worried for what Renly had in mind. A small thought coursed through her mind.

_He's going to ask me to marry him… And I won't be able to refuse him; my father won't allow me to destroy another betrothal._

She looked away from him and his company as he rode past. She pulled her hood up even further, so that no one would see the tears welling up. She would have to make every last moment she had with Sandor count. A tear spilled out over her cheek and she wiped it away, it was horrible. To think that Sandor and herself had only just become brave enough to confess their attraction for one another, now it was to be taken away. She would have to keep herself for her husband, and Sandor…

_He'll remain Prince Joffrey's lap dog. Caged and used by the little spoilt shit. What cruel things fate has in store for us, why is nothing simple!_

"Tarynn?"

She turned to her younger sister, "We'd better get to that blacksmith, before father tells us off for getting back late."

She urged her horse on, blocking out the looks that Toby was giving her and ignoring Arya's constant questioning. She clenched her reins; she had the sudden urge just to ride off, loose herself in the crowds… And that was just what she did.

Tarynn knew Arya would be safe with Harwin and Desmond, so she forced her horse into a gallop. People ran out of the way, as Tarynn rode hard and fast along the cobblestone road. She took the nearest left, hearing Harwin and Toby shouting after her, even Arya's shrill voice. But she ignored them, ignored everything around her. She concentrated on her horse as she rode down the spiralling roads, she could hear horses galloping after her, and she had to admit they were fine horse riders. But she was Tarynn Stark; she was the finest horse rider in Winterfell. Even better than her father to some extent.

She took a left down an alleyway; people had to press themselves into alcoves and doorways just to avoid her. Soon after a little while they lost track of her, she slowed her horse down dismounting. She didn't know where she was, but she could still hear Toby's angry shouts. She had to think fast. She saw a girl playing idly with a couple of sack dolls, Tarynn approached her.

"Excuse me? Do you have a father, a mother? An older sibling perhaps?"

The girl nodded mutely, her eyes widening.

"Could I speak with them?" The girl scrambled off, disappearing into a ramshackle house before returning with a tired looking woman. "Please, do you have an old cloak that I could have? Preferably with a hood?"

"What would a noble lady like yourself be wanting with a tattered cloak?"

Tarynn looked down at the ground, "I need some time to think, to disappear for a while."

The woman crossed her arms and turned to the little girl, "Poppy, fetch your father."

A man who would no doubt be handsome had he sufficient food and sleep appeared next at the door, as he took in Tarynn his countenance changed from weary to surprised. "Lady Stark," He knelt, pulling down his wife with him.

"Please, get up." She looked around the alleyway, expecting Toby to come charging down it at any given moment. "I just need a cloak and a way of getting my horse back to the keep. I have gold."

The man shook his hands, "My wife has a cloak that you can have my lady, as for your horse, I can have one of my lads leave it near the Keep for you."

"That would be great."

The woman sighed and went inside, calling to the girl again.

"Here, 2 gold dragons."

She held the coins out but the man shook his head, "No, I don't want your coin; just being able to tell my boys that I met Lady Tarynn Stark is enough. You've become quite a legend around the city. People talking about that kind deed you did for that poor wench, saving her child and all. It's an honour to actually be talking to you."

Tarynn could feel fire crawling up her cheeks, she had no idea that she had affected the people of King's Landing so profoundly.

"Well at least take a dragon, it's the least I can do."

She waited patiently for the woman to return; in her arms she carried a rough spun brown cloak. Tarynn took her own blue-grey one off, folding it over her horse, before sliding on the brown one. It fit perfectly, and concealed her identity. She handed the reins to the man, thanking the family one last time before heading off down the alleyway.

She had no idea where she was, and didn't have a clue over where she was going, but it was refreshing to be out and about without a guard shadowing her every move.

_I could get use to this._

*Sandor*

When one of the Winterfell guards came riding into the Red Keep main yard like he had some sort of demon on his tail. Sandor knew something was wrong, and that it concerned Tarynn, for trailing behind the panicking guard was little Arya Stark. He moved closer, watching the guard as he threw his reins at the stable boy, and helping Arya to dismount. He tried to catch bits of their conversation.

"Where do you think she's gone Desmond? What did Lord Renly say to her?"

"I don't know little Lady, I just don't know. But Harwin, and that ex gold cloak Toby is out there looking for her. I need to tell his Lord what has happened. Come on."

Sandor didn't waste a moment. If Tarynn had gone missing he had to find her, there was nothing that was going to stop him. He ran as fast as his armour would allow him to the stables. Barking orders at the cowering stable hand to saddle Stranger, the boy was too slow. His hands trembling as he approached the large and imposing black warhorse.

"Seven hells get out of the way." He shoved the boy back, ripping the saddle out of his hands and fastened it on his horse. He mounted up, and was out of the stables and the Red Keep in a matter of seconds, ignoring the stares he got from the guards that were on duty. He would find her, and then ask what the fuck she was doing, just disappearing and scaring the shit out of him like that.

Even if he had to rip the city apart he would find her.

*Tarynn*

Pressing herself into an doorway when a bunch of gold cloaks rode past, her heart hammered in her chest. She had spied a bookshop, she was planning on asking the proprietor if she could sit in the corner amongst the books and scrolls and read for a time. But it was too risky crossing the large street. Someone would see her, or she might bump into someone and then her disguise would be ruined.

Instead she saw a virtually empty alehouse. She approached it, looking at the sign. The letters were faint but she could make out the words 'the Dragon's Tooth' in worn gold lettering. She went in, and saw a table near the back, in the corner. Hidden from view.

She approached it and sat down, dumping her satchel on the table. This would be a good place to work. She was planning on translating the new book that she had brought from the old crone.

_Peace and quiet, a few drunken regulars but nothing that I can't ignore._

She opened the book, its pages were lined with perfect silver script.

_High Valyrian. This is going to be a bit of a struggle to translate._

As the afternoon progressed, the barman sent a serving girl over to her. "Are you going to order anything? Boss says you have to get a drink."

Tarynn looked up, pausing in her writing. "Uh, yeah, I'll have a… Mead?"

"One… mead… Gotcha."

The girl walked away, leaving Tarynn to her thoughts. From what she could discern, the book was a collection of historical correspondences/letters from way before the fall of Valyria, how the book had survived was a miracle. It was an actual book describing what happened before the Doom fell across Valyria. It was fascinating.

As Tarynn worked she forgot the time, the sun began to fall from the sky, long shadows casting over the pavements and people who still wandered the streets. Twice she had to move backwards in her chair and pull her hood up tight around her so that the gold cloaks who came barging in didn't know who she was. And three times she saw the flapping of grey Winterfell cloaks. They were looking for her, but she didn't want to be found.

She was so mesmerised by the detailing that the book possessed that it wasn't until she had finished the first three letters that she realised someone was staring at her. She looked up briefly and looked back down. It was Sandor, and no doubt he was here to drag her back to the Red Keep.

_He told me I had to act the Lady, play the part. I don't look very ladylike drinking mead from a tankard and spending my afternoon in a below average Alehouse._

His footsteps were heavy and deliberate as he approached her, and she shrank back into her borrowed cloak.

"You can't fool me. What the fuck are you playing at? Your Lord father has sent out entire platoons of guards just to look for you. You're a fool. A stupid fool for disappearing, do you know what happens to pretty girls who wander the back alleys? They get raped, or murdered. Is that what you wanted?" He yanked back her hood and she met his gaze, her eyes stinging as she tried to stop the tears that were threatening to spill out onto her cheeks. "I'm… Sorry." He looked down, "I know what it's like to want to escape your own life. I shouldn't have said…"

She shook her head and stood, gathering up her things sucking in the tears that were threatening to fall, "No you said exactly what I needed to hear, I can't run away from who I am. And I was foolish for attempting to do so. Incredibly foolish."

He stood over her mutely, his physique alone was garnering him attention. Sandor Clegane was taller than any man Tarynn knew, and was well built as well. That was why his reputation was so fierce, no one wanted to take the Hound on, no one sane that is.

"Quickly, before one of these fuckers start yapping at me. I'm in mind to send my fist through that sneering barman's face all ready."

"I'm ready." His aggression was so finite, so real that it scared her but at the same time thrilled her. He was dangerous, he was aggressive, but that just made Tarynn want to be his even more.

"Good, now let's get back before those soldiers that are looking for you take you away from me like the last time I rescued your sorry arse."

He stormed out, with Tarynn following him demurely. He flipped a stag towards the bartender who caught in and bit it, grinning when he realised that it was real, when they were out in the alleyway, Sandor grabbed her and roughly pushed her towards his warhorse; Stranger. She touched the saddle. Leaning into the horse. She heard him sigh, and then the feeling of his metal armour pressing against her, he was trying to embrace her. She turned and looked up at him, although his face betrayed nothing, his eyes burned.

He leant down towards her and their lips connected, he fought for dominance, and normally Tarynn let him control the kiss but this time…

She bit down on his lower lip, pulling him in hungrily. He snarled in surprise and retaliated, lifting her up and onto Stranger's back without breaking the kiss. She held the back of his head, her fingers brushing through his thin, scraggly hair. Still slightly damp from the bath he had taken. His hands were gripping her waist.

She broke the kiss to breathe and Sandor's lips fell to her collarbone, pressing kisses lower and lower. She gasped, and Stranger neighed, stamping a hoof which broke the moment. Sandor looked up, his cheeks flushed, the scar an angry red.

"You're going to be the death of me I swear it." He leant forward and kissed her again, "But what a sweet death it would be."

Tarynn blushed, and pressed her hand against Sandor's scarred cheek, "But being together alive would be so much sweeter."

* * *

On the way back she had asked Sandor if he wanted to ride double but he had shaken his head, "I have something that I need to walk off," He had grinned suggestively, his face twisting into that weird half smile, the bone of his jaw showing.

She had looked down at Stranger's glistening black coat, "Oh."

Sandor had laughed deep, gruff and raspy, startling a couple of children who were playing nearby. And she had smiled, firstly because she wasn't retained in the Keep's walls yet but secondly because this man, this man who people said was a savage, uncontrollable beast made her so unexplainably happy that it almost hurt.

_Letting go is going to be the hardest thing._


	19. Chapter 19

I apologise for how late this chapter is! I was all prepared for a week void of any prior commitments and then I literally get bombed by an outrageous amount of work. This chapter is a sort of bridge, I needed to connect the last chapter to the one that follows this one. The next chapter will hold the start of the tourney so give me some ideas guys as I'm kinda at a loose end. I have a idea which I hope that you will greatly enjoy! As always feedback is welcomed, so please tell me what you think.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 19

"So you have decided to return to us," Her father's voice was quiet and betrayed no traces of emotion.

She nodded mutely, "Father I…"

"If the next word is an apology then save your breath, you and I both know that you would do it again if you got given the chance. All my children are the same, strong willed and unpredictable at best. Are you trying to alienate yourself from the others? People have already begun to talk Tarynn, comments on how a highborn woman shouldn't be speaking the languages of the heathens, how you should have been married of as soon as you were old enough in order to cull these thoughts and ideas of adventure. Even the king himself is imploring me to marry you to Renly so that you might have stability…"

Her father hadn't turned around, he was still gazing out of the large window in his solar, the one with the view that encompassed almost the entire city of King's Landing. His hands were clasped behind his back, which was rigid. She didn't know what to say, they had been in the city for little over a week she knew that she had made an impact, but she hadn't realised that so many people scorned her for it as well.

"I just wanted some time to myself, that's all."

"You left your sister and your guards and rode off into a city that you don't know anything about. You could have been hurt, or worse killed."

"But I'm not, am I? Father I am not a little girl anymore please stop trying to treat me as one!"

"I think I know that, you haven't been a little girl since the first day you ran up showing me your essay on the anatomy of humans… I should have had you betrothed sooner. Your mother wanted me to, she wanted me to make sure that you had a future, that you wouldn't turn into your Aunt Lysa, she wanted you to be married young and to someone your own age. Renly is close enough, Theon was even closer. You still have not reconsidered taking Theon as your husband? I would be able to send you back to Winterfell..."

Tarynn clenched her fist, her mind was screaming at her to tell him how Theon had tried to rape her but her heart was still trying to compel her to not worry her father with it. But still it left her deeply scarred, she wondered if she would ever truly get over the ordeal that Theon had attempted to put her through.

"Father I'm adamant that I do not want Theon, I refuse to move to the Iron Islands when the time comes, besides his smiles always unnerved me. He is also too free with his affections."

Her father turned to face her, his eyes searched over her person, no doubt to make sure that she was not harmed in any way.

"True Theon has a way with women… But perhaps with marriage he would…"

She laughed hollowly and a flash of anger went through her father's eyes, "Theon loves women," She shrugged, "One woman, I, would not have satisfied his _needs_."

"Then Renly."

Her father's tone was so final and uncompromisal that Tarynn's heart seemed to sink in her chest. Her father would not forgive her if she destroyed yet another marriage proposal. However she let the subject drop, the afternoon was already late and she had to change and make herself pretty for the feast that was to commence shortly. Tonight's feast was the first one of the tourney season.

"We need not discuss it now father,"She moved forward and kissed her father on the cheek, he suprisingly allowed her.

"What am I going to do with you Tarynn," He smiled sadly as he looked down at her, "No more running off, I won't have you being a blemish on this house any longer." His remark was faintly threatening but she let it slide. Her father seemed to grow more haggard with everyday that passed, something was troubling him. "Now off with you, you have to be ready for the feast. And please, make yourself... Beautiful."

She nodded and withdrew from her father's study, floating down the hallway in search of Tilana or Bronte, she needed to decide on what dress to wear but before that she wanted to pen a letter to Winterfell.

She had been writing to her mother and family every chance she got, commenting on the weather, on the activities that they had taken part in that day, on father's, Sansa's and Arya's health. Anything that she thought would interest she scribbled it in before passing it to Bronte to hand to Maester Pycelle. The Grandmaester unnerved her, having been so use to Luwin's soft ways and neatness, Maester Pycelle was an unwelcomed change. He gave her draughts though, but she had a feeling that he was adding milk of the poppy to it as well for whenever she took them she started to get immediately drowsy, she would have to investigate it.

She bumped into Bronte as she came up the stairs; her arms piled high with towels.

"Bronte," She took off the top few towels from the pile, clasping them to her chest.

"Oh Tarynn, I didn't know you were back. Tilana is readying your dresses, you have to choose one."

"I will be there shortly, I was hoping that you would be able to find me more parchment, I used my last piece last night."

"I will once I've put these towels in Lady Sansa's and Lady Arya's rooms."

"Here let me help you."

Bronte gave her instructions to take the towels to Sansa's rooms, and to leave them with Sansa's handmaid. Tarynn nodded, it was relaxing just doing a simple chore. When she reached Sansa's quarters she could hear quiet murmurings behind the door, she knocked once before letting herself in. Sansa sat on her bed and Jeyne Poole stood near the window. The two had been talking but when Tarynn stepped into the room they quietened.

Sansa squealed, jumping off the bed and moving towards her sister. Tarynn placed the towels on top of a dresser and gave her sister a hug.

"Father said that you had gone missing, oh Tarynn I prayed to the Seven to return you to us and they listened. I don't know what I would have done if I had been left with Arya as my only sister."

"Don't fret San, I just needed some time to myself." She chastely kissed her sister on the top of her head, "So what are you wearing tonight?"

Jeyne politely departed from the room, allowing the two sisters to spend some time together. Sansa babbled on about Joffrey and how nice Queen Cersei was being towards her.

"She told me that Joff will surely love me even more when I wear this dress Tarynn, isn't it beautiful?"

Sansa unfurled a gown of gold and crimson, on the bodice were tiny gemstones that shimmered whenever the dress was moved. Every inch of the dress screamed Lannister and Baratheon.

"It is." Tarynn's mind wracked with worry, Sansa was falling head over heels in love with Joffrey but there was something about the boy that turned the blood in Tarynn's veins to ice.

* * *

Tarynn had just sat down to braid Sansa's hair when there was a knock on the door, Sansa called out; "Come in."

Bronte stepped in, spying Tarynn, "Lady Tarynn, a man, Ser Sandor Clegane wishes to speak with you."

"What does Joff's Hound want to do with you?" Sansa's voice shook a little, she was scared of Sandor.

"He was the one who found me San, perhaps he wishes a thank you or a token of my gratitude." Her mind started racing about what it could be, "The man is not a ser, where is he Bronte?" She hoped her tone of contempt sounded realistic.

"Well, um, he is…" Bronte looked up and Sandor loomed into view, huge and monstrous behind the skinny Bronte.

Tarynn looked Sandor up and down, her heart beating a little faster, "I see, would you be so kind as to escort Sandor Clegane into my quarters, await me there please."

She nodded, as did Sandor, his grey eyes lingering on her figure before he followed little Bronte.

When the door closed Sansa spoke, "He scares me."

"He scares me too." And that was only half true.

* * *

Sandor was standing beside her bedside table when she entered, in his hand was one of her vials. He held it up to her when she walked in, "What's this?"

"A sleeping draught, I get these nightmares when I don't take it. It's like I'm not myself in them, hard to explain, I used to get them a lot when I was younger, I used to wake my parents up near every night so they commissioned Maester Luwin to create a remedy. So far…" She made a motion across her chest, crossing her heart, "It works."

He put it back down, "Does it knock you out?"

"For some reason the one that Grandmaester Pycelle creates for me does, I have a feeling he's putting milk of the poppy in it, I was going to confront him after I find evidence."

"And how were you going to find that?"

"Oh simple, just separate the ingredients, you know steam out the water, chase away the other bits and pieces and you should have milk of the poppy left over. Very easy."

He smiled, that terrible but endearing half smile, "Maybe you should have become a maester."

"If you haven't noticed yet but I have breasts, only men can become maesters."

His grin grew wider, "Oh I have noticed," his voice grew husky, "Trust me."

She shuddered and distracted the growing tingling sensation growing between her legs by moving to the wardrobe and flinging it open, "So why have you decided to risk my father's wrath and visit me today?"

She pulled out a couple of evening dresses and laid them down on her bed, she wouldn't change in front of him but she could decide on what she was going to wear. Tilana had already gone through them and matched them to various shoes and accessories anyway, so it was really just a matter of choosing what combination she like best. She stood there gazing at the dresses, fiddling with the three pendants that hung around her neck whilst Sandor answered her question.

"I… Had something to ask you."

"You're going to have to be a little more specific then that." She glanced up at him and then noticed her satchel on the small table that he stood beside. She moved towards it, picking up the supple leather bag and opening it, withdrawing the book and the small shard of dragonglass from its depths. She left the book on the window sill, it seemed to hum with some sort of imperceptible energy. But she took the dragonglass with her, rolling the shard in her hand.

"I…" He seemed to tense up, and she had no idea what he wanted to ask her, his eyes betrayed nothing, his stature was stoic. She laid her hand on his arm and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

"You don't have to ask me it until you are ready Sandor, true you have peaked my curiosity, but I am patient… Do you wear a pendent around your neck?"

His eyes seemed to clear and he looked down at her, "No."

"No matter, I should have a spare piece of leather somewhere." She searched a small pot of bits and bobs before she found what she was looking for, a long strip of leather. She fastened the leather through the small rusted hoop, tying it into a knot before tying another so that the leather became a necklace. She held it up and the glass caught the light of the setting sun, shimmering and glimmering. She held it up to Sandor, "I brought this for you." She went to him, moving his long hair to the side and slid the pendent over his head, lifting up his hair so that the pendent fell against the collar bit of his breastplate. She kissed the glass, "A good luck charm." She touched her own piece of glass and she was sure that she felt some sort of connection between the two shards.

Sandor cupped her face, pressing a searing kiss to her lips, his fingers tangling in her hair. When they pulled apart he leant his forehead against hers, "I should go, you have to get ready for the first Tourney feast. I'll save you a seat." His smile was faintly sad, the comment had been in jest but she knew that he would have saved her a seat if it had been allowed.

She kissed the tip of his crooked nose, "You better." She laughed, "Now go, before my maids see us in this rather compromising situation."

He pecked her cheek before departing from her rooms and leaving her to her thoughts.

*Sandor*

Something had stopped him from asking her, no telling her, that he wished to pursue her. That he wanted and was going to attempt to ask her father for her hand in marriage. Maybe it had been the stupidity of such a want, he couldn't compete against the likes of Renly Baratheon, or even that Theon boy who had tried to rape her in Winterfell. Rumour had it that Lord Stark had also written to the Tyrells, offering Tarynn to their oldest son.

_A cripple no less, if Lord stick-up-his-arse wanted Tarynn to marry a cripple then why doesn't he just throw her to me._

He wasn't a cripple in the traditional sense, but society treated him as of he was one. He stood outside her door, listening to her rummage around in her belongings but when he heard footsteps and her maids whispers he pushed himself from off the door and stalked out of the tower of the Hand and its adjoining corridors. How Tarynn could stand to live in that place was beyond him, considering how every previous Hand that moved to King's Landing never saw their homes again.

He took the steps that spun down towards the ground, his mind throbbing and his skin ached. The scars annoyed him, especially when he was suffering from a headache. When he exited the tower he was greeted by the bright sunshine which temporarily blinded him. He raised his arm shading himself from the sun's rays. The yard was empty, most people would no doubt be readying themselves for the first of the many feasts that were being held in the Hand's honour, which reminded him, he too had to dress in suitable attire. He owned only a smattering of nice doublets, and a couple of nice trousers. He was hard pressed for choice.

He walked out into the sun, the hot weather always made him feel drowsy, coupled with the heavy amounts of wine he was practically lethargic. As he stumbled into his room and threw himself on his bed, his mind wandered and he began to dream and plan about what a future with Tarynn would be like.

*Tarynn*

Sansa sat in Tarynn's desk chair, watching as Tilana tightened up Tarynn's corset. The dress that Tarynn had chosen was a dark grey with cream lace and small black gemstones, the Stark colours, it fell to the floor straight. And was slightly cinched around the waist. Her long brown hair was piled into a bun, with two braids running into it on both sides of her head.

"Will I have to wear a corset Tarynn?"

Tarynn looked at her little sister through the looking glass, her auburn hair had been neatly braided, the style reminiscent of the way Queen Cersei wore hers. "You'll have to when you start developing your breasts San…"

"But it looks so painful." Quite unintended Tarynn grunted as Tilana pulled it in incredibly tight. "See. It must hurt."

Tarynn smiled sourly, "That is the price of beauty, and father wants me to look extra pretty tonight."

Sansa gasped, a smile coming to her lips, "Are you to be courted? Do you have a suitor. Oh I bet its Renly. Isn't he handsome? Just think we'll both be married to Baratheons! How exciting!"

"You know how I feel about marriage."

"But Storm's End is supposed to be beautiful! Oh Tarynn you'll be so happy."

Despite herself Tarynn smiled, she admired Sansa's innocence and simple thoughts; she thought that everything was perfect, fairy-tale like.

"Sometimes happiness doesn't come from a large castle and children. There are other factors that affect it as well." Tilana was now helping her put on her dress, sliding it carefully over her hair when there was a knock at the door. "Enter."

A servant that Tarynn didn't recognised cleared her throat, "Beg your pardon my Lady, but Lord Renly Bartheon sent me to send for you. He is waiting in Council room."

Tarynn nodded, "Thank you." And the girl disappeared from the doorway, closing the door softly on her departure.

"Renly wants to see you? He must really like you Ta."

Tarynn cursed quietly under her breath, and smoothed down her skirts. She inspected her image in the mirror. Her face was dusted with some light powder due to the fact that a few pimples had shown up on her forehead, they were hardly noticeable however. Her eyes were dark, almost sultry. Her bosom was pushed up making it look like she had perfectly round breasts and a few wisps of hair curled delicately framing her face. The city was turning her into something she wasn't. And yet she had to admit that she did look quite nice.

"I'm sure its just some council business, perhaps he needs me to translate another missive." Ever since she had sat in on that first council meeting, people had started turning to her for translations. She was happy to oblige, it gave her practice after all. "I'm sure it's nothing of great import."

Tilana sprayed her with some sort of flower fragrance before speaking to her in her thick accent, "There you are my lady you will be the belle of the ball."

"Thank you Tilana, I appreciate it. Now go, spend some time with your daughter." She touched Tilana gently on the arm and smiled, Tilana bowed her head before leaving on silent feet. "You too Sansa, go see Arya, make sure she is wearing that dress I told her to wear."

Sansa stood, "Have fun with Renly."

When she was alone Tarynn opened the Book of Valyrian Letters, it's pages felt warm to touch. She turned a couple of pages when something slid out. This page was not part of the original book, the text was in a colour that seemed to change whenever you tilted the parchement, it was filled with tiny Valyrian script. She set it down on top of the book, she would have to look at it later, she was running late as it was. The page made her uneasy anyway. She swept from the room in a flurry of fragrance.

* * *

He stood near the council table, his fingers idly tapping the surface of the smooth, varnished wood. When she entered, Renly turned, his eyes sweeping over her figure.

"Lady Tarynn… You look stunning as ever." She acknowledged his compliment but that didn't settle her nerves. She needed some of Sandor's strong wine that always seemed to calm her.

"You requested my presence Lord Renly?"

"Please, call me Renly. And yes I did, I have something quite important to ask you."

He looked away from her, an absent minded expression crossing his face, she noticed that on his lapel he wore a golden stag pin with a ruby for its eye, but beside it was a jade green rose, the symbol of Highgarden; the Tyrells.

_I knew there was something going on between Renly and Loras._

She focused on his face again, he was handsome, no doubt, with his jet black hair, sparkling green eyes and slightly tanned skin. He would make any maiden blush and swoon, but she did not feel the spark that she got from Sandor. She felt nothing for Renly Baratheon.

"Please, I am all ears." She forced herself to smile, to act demure and innocent, but in the back of her mind a little voice whispered, pre-warning her of what was to come.

"As you know, your father has offered me your hand in marriage…" He looked back at her, and moved steadily forward until he was just a hair's breadth away, he knelt, "And I wish to accept his offer," He reached for her hand, "Will you Lady Tarynn of House Stark, marry me?"

A knot seemed to form in her stomach and she gulped, trying to keep away the tears. He had staged it so romantically, so perfectly and yet she was abhorred by the very thought of having to marry him.

_Father knew he was going to ask me, he knew, he told me to make myself beautiful and this was the reason. _

She felt betrayed and trapped, if she was to refuse Renly her father would never be able to forgive her, it would also make facing Renly painful. She looked at his kind and generous face and for a split second in morphed into the scarred hook-nosed face of Sandor Clegane. Her heart clenched and the tears began to flow. She couldn't do it.

She tore her hand away from Renly's, holding her hand to her nose as she ran from the room, her chest heaving with each sob. She didn't look back, even as Renly called after her.

She didn't look back.

* * *

Her father found her huddled in the corner of the Keep's library, somewhere between the histories of the Free Cities and classic Westorosi Literature. He knelt beside her, taking her weeping figure into his arms.

He stroked her hair, "Now, now. Calm yourself."

She buried her face into her father's soft doublet, "I can't… Please… Don't make me… I… Don't want to be married to him."

He sighed, his voice quietly authoritive, "You haven't the choice, you've already destroyed one betrothal, I can't allow this connection to slip through my fingers. Your mother has sent her blessing…"

She stood, pushing herself away from him, "Oh as if that makes any difference!" She turned away from him, furiously wiping away the tears, "Can't you see I don't love him?!"

"I never loved your mother until you were born; ours was an arranged marriage too. I never saw Catelyn before our wedding day."

She sniffed, "But you don't need me as a connection to the Baratheons, you have Sansa."

"I had hoped you would have been happy with this! Renly is much closer to your age then Willas Tyrell or any of the other suitable suitors. Theon Greyjoy…"

"Can you please stop going on about Theon!" Her scream echoed through the library, she collapsed on the floor again, she hugged her knees, "Please father, just leave me be for a few moments."

Her father touched her head gently, "You can't keep doing this Tarynn, I'm afraid if you don't accept Renly then I will have no choice but to send you back to Winterfell to wed Theon. It's your decision." He left her with that heart breaking ultimatum; the tears flowed down her cheeks as she knelt between the bookcases. Her thoughts turned to Sandor, they could run away, start a new life in one of the Free Cities, she could become a translator and a writer, he could find jobs as a mercenary or maybe a trainer to soldiers or something. The thought seemed perfectly idyllic and unfeasible.

She had to make a decision, but how could she chose between two things that both ripped her heart out and shredded it?


	20. Chapter 20

Hey guys, this chapter is short, I apologise. And the tourney isn't included but this chapter was so emotional to write and I think I left off at a resonable point. In response to a guest review (thank you by the way) I pronounce Tarynn as Karen with a T :) But its up to the reader really how they pronounce it. Anyway thanks for the support that this is getting, and also thank you to those who have been here since the beginning and also to those who have just joined my little crazy story.

Stay safe.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 20.

The feast was about to start, they were admitting in groups of people, proclaiming their houses and status' to their fellows who were already in the hall., All traces of her weeping erased. She stood tall and emotionless at the entrance of the great hall, voices could be heard inside. Her father was also there standing near Sansa and Arya. When he saw her he gently squeezed her arm in what he must have thought was a thoughtful gesture, he addressed her but he spoke nothing of what had happened earlier.

"Tarynn stand with your sister, Arya come, take my hand." Tarynn clasped Sansa's hand, forcing herself to smile at her pretty younger sister. "When the man gestures us to move to the top of the stairs do so, but don't walk down them until he has said your full name and titles."

Tarynn nodded, and Sansa responded with a quiet "Yes father," Sansa's eyes were sparkling with joy, "I do hope Joff will love me in this dress."

Tarynn smoothed her sister's hair down, "He would be a fool not to."

The man who was heralding their entrance was a older man, with short grey hair and a kindly wrinkled face, "Ah Lord Stark, do you wish Warden of the North to be included in your announcement?"

"Whatever is the proper etiquette Ronald," The man bowed his head.

The Starks were the last family to be admitted into the hall, Tarynn had just watched as King Robert and his immediate family; the Baratheons, were announced just before them. The Starks were after all the guests of honour. The man called Ronald cleared his throat, his voice booming across the hall as Ned Stark led his three daughters to the top of the stairs. Below them were long tables, many were already seated. Up on the dais was another table with 4 spare chairs. Tarynn spied a spare one beside Renly and she almost turned heel and ran. But her father was torturing himself also by going through with this ordeal, he had never wanted a tourney in his honour claiming that it was an unnescessary waste of expenses. She would take part in this farce for him.

"Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell and Hand to King Robert Baratheon first of his name, accompanied by his three daughters. Lady Tarynn Stark, Lady Sansa Stark and Lady Arya Stark."

Applause exploded across the large hall, as they descended down the steps Tarynn caught sight of Sandor, wedged between a man whose coat of arms she did not recognise and a young woman who practically sat on the edge of her seat in order to put as much space as possible between them. He caught her eye as she swept past, nodding. She ignored him, it pained her to do so, but impulsion would take over her and she would do something that she would no doubt regret in the years to come.

When the Starks reached the dais, Renly stood, as did the King and Joffrey, Littlefinger was there also, so was Lord Varys and others who were part of the King's council. Tarynn was to sit between Petyr Baelish and Renly. The latter had a sorrowful expression whilst Petyr Baelish was all smiles and kind words.

"Dare I say you look beautiful tonight Lady Tarynn."

"Thank you, you are very kind to say so."

Renly held her seat out for her, as he did almost every time they feasted together, Sansa was sat between Joffrey and Myrcella, Arya was at the end beside Tommen. Tarynn sat, and Renly held out a napkin to her which she laid on her lap as was proper etiquette. As she did so Renly leant towards her, whispering in her ear.

"About earlier… I hope I did not upset you with my… Question."

Tarynn gulped, motioning for a servant to fill her glass with the thick dornish red that she had spied on the corner of the table, the moment was nigh. She had to do what was right. She forced herself not to look at Sandor, if she did then she would break, and she would not be able to go through with it.

"Renly my tears… were not of sorrow… but…" She glanced up as King Robert began to make a toast and to allow the feast to commence. However still Renly leant near her, his green eyes eager but with a trace of perceptible resignation, he did not want this marriage that was obvious. However she knew that he was asking her out of respect for her father but also because he was Lord of Storm End, he needed to procure an heir no matter what his sexual preferences were.

"Tears of joy." She had said it, dooming her future.

"Does that mean you will accept?"

_Is he trying to make me change my mind? To make me second guess myself?_

She whispered it, praying that no one would hear, "Yes, Renly I accept."

He smiled, and for once it actually seemed genuine, perhaps Renly was in a strange way happy that she had accepted him. "Excellent," He kissed her on the cheek, his skin was smooth, different to Sandor's stubble, "We will announce our engagement tonight, during the dance."

The change wasn't too dramatic, every time Renly fussed over her, offering her sweet treats and morsels of food, she accepted but she felt dead inside. Numb. She was engaged. The man whose bed and children she was to share and bear sat beside her. Would their marriage be happy and loving? Would she grow to love him? Or would he treat her as a sister, bed her as a duty, would there be any passion or romance? Or perhaps one day in the distant future she would walk into their chambers and see him with another man. She shuddered and Renly asked her if she was okay.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. The quail eggs are delicious," She smiled but felt like throwing up.

"We have quail in the grounds of Storm End, you'll love it there. It's the perfect place to raise a family. Speaking of family, how many children would you like to have."

He was so forward, she was taken slightly aback by his question and scrambled for an answer. "Two, a boy and a girl. I've grown up in a large family, so I wish for a small one myself. I've seen my mother being run ragged by having to look after six children."

"Two is a reasonable amount."

_Yes, well if your seed is strong it means that you need only bed me twice._

"How many would you like?"

He grinned, gesturing for more wine for the two of them, "Well I never really pictured myself as a father, but I was hoping for three maybe four."

The number shocked her, or perhaps it was just a way of covering up his preferences.

"I'm sure when the time comes we will be able to negotiate." The look he gave her was surprisingly flirtatious. He confused her; it was as if he swung both ways.

"Until that time comes then," He raised his goblet, "To you, Tarynn, my future Lady Baratheon of Storm's End."

She gulped down the wine, praying to the heavens above that it would allow her to get drunk so that she could be taken back to her rooms earlier.

As the feast progressed Renly began to be more open with his affections the more he drunk, occasionally he would take her hand, sometimes he would brush a couple of tendrils of hair from her face and kiss her cheek. She could feel eyes on her, and her face grew heated when she saw Sandor practically glaring at them from his position at one of the tables, every so often he would raise his goblet, drinking deeply. She looked away, ashamed.

The hall was filled with loud, joyous talking and laughter, she could see her father from her position, slicing off cheese or holding a conversation with the King or the others who clawed at his attention. Tarynn however was struggling to hold a conversation which included both Renly and Littlefinger, it was clear to say that Renly did not trust Littlefinger and that Littlefinger was not impressed by Renly at all. And here she was smack bang in the middle of it.

Renly sliced off some of the smoked salmon that had been laid out before them, serving Tarynn and then himself before taking a swig from his wine glass, he turned to her, "Will our children inherit your ability to learn foreign tongues?"

She had never really considered how she would raise her children, would she encourage them to aim for the skies or turn into her mother and run a tight ship? She knew that she would at least teach whatever children she had how to speak the language of the Free Cities.

"I will make sure that our children will know at least one language, its safer, if they ever happen to have reason to visit the Free Cities then I want them to be prepared."

She turned away from him, stabbing at a piece of salmon, bringing it to her lips and raising her eyes. Sandor's stare was intense, like he was trying to decipher her soul. She felt like crying. She had known that this was going to happen, but it was so soon. She bit down hard on the metal fork and dragged herself away from looking at him, he was making her chest hurt.

The tables were cleard after what must have been the 24th course. She stood, brushing down her dress, she teetered a little, her head spinning. The wine must have started its magic. As the tables were moved back in order to make room for the dance, Renly grabbed her arm, "I hope you'll grace me with a dance?"

He was looking over her head, and she turned to see Lord Baelish move away with a slight scowl. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He led her to an empty section of the hall, Sansa was with Joffrey, the Queen was in her brother's arms. Even King Robert had managed to waddle to the dance floor in order to dance with his daughter. Her own father had hidden himself away, pretending to be too busy to join in the dance.

As they waited for the musicians to begin to play, Renly leant down to whisper in her ear "I hope you're happy with this Tarynn."

She was about to respond when the music started, a welcomed distraction from the question that could have caused her to change her mind. Renly was a surprisingly good dancer, and as they whirled around the dance floor she sort of forgot about her predicament and lost herself in the musicians talents.

The tempo was strong and fast, and as the song began to speed up Renly gripped her closer. She was then spun off to another dance partner, Ser Jaime.

The kingslayer sneered down at her, "My for a northerner you can actually dance pretty well." He gripped her shoulder tightly, " You shouldn't be running off like that Lady Tarynn, you gave my sweet sister such a fright."

She looked at Jaime, looked at his knighthood that stank of hypocrisy. This man killed a king, a king that he had sworn to protect; he did not deserve to have that Ser in front of his name.

"Your sister is the least of my concerns, Ser Jaime."

"Indeed, I suppose then that Toby is at the top of that list? Tell me, how is the young chap in bed? Whenever we return home to Casterly Rock all the girls swoon over him." He grinned, sly and obnoxious.

She withdrew from him, prising his hand from her waist, "I no not what rumors you have heard of Kingslayer, but I have never allowed Toby to touch me."

"You should curb you tongue, I was simply jesting, that was all." His eyes were quietly threating, but he looked away when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"If you would be so kind as to allow me to dance with the pretty Lady Stark," His voice sent a shiver through Tarynn's heart.

The kingslayer stepped back, "Ha, and what do you think Lord Stark will think when he sees his daughter dancing with a Hound?"

"No more then what he thought when he saw her dancing with a kingslayer."

Jaime scowled, biting his tongue and stalking away, Sandor took her in his arms, placing his hands on her waist whilst she looped her arms around her neck. "Do you think it's wise for us to be dancing like this? In front of all these people?"

His voice was gruff, "To hell with these people, I have been waiting all night to hold you in my arms. I've had to watch Renly kiss you on the cheek and feed you bits of food from his fork. I've never felt so angry before in my life."

She looked down at the floor, the guilt brewing inside her like an unbridled storm.

_Well if you're angry now, you're going to be furious later._

"Sandor… I… There is something you need to know."

He laughed, "Now why does that sound so ominous?" He span her around, for such a huge man he was surprisingly light on his feet. "My brother's here, daring to show his ugly self in this hall," her eyes swept over the scene behind Sandor's shoulder.

"That's your brother?" Her eyes settled on a hulking man surrounded by his associates.

"Yes, seven feet of hard muscle, I'm planning on challenging him to a tilt."

She looked up, "No, you'll get yourself killed. I couldn't bear it if you…"

"Died?" He smiled, gently for once, "While you still live, I'm not going anywhere."

His words pricked at her heart, she was going to break both of their hearts. "Sandor… please… listen to me…"

She had wanted to tell him, but Renly's voice rang loud and clear over the hall, she shuddered and pulled herself away from Sandor's warm arms.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I, well we, have an announcement to make. Lady Tarynn would you join me?" He was standing on the dais, his hand outstretched towards her, a smile on his lips. She looked around the hall, at the smiling faces, at Sansa who was holding her hands over her face in surprise. At her father who looked strangely smug and proud. At Queen Cersei's glare.

She moved as if she was in a dream, she felt Sandor grip her arm, and she turned back briefly. There was the betrayal in his eyes. She shook off his hand, "Please, I implore you to let me go." Her voice was formal and unemotional, she did not sound like herself at all.

When she reached the dais, Renly pulled her closer, casually looping an arm around her waist, "Lady Tarynn and I are engaged to be married." There were murmurs and excited voices as people began to understand that a wedding was to take place; Renly kissed her on the cheek. And then the applause started, "I hope you have no objections to this impending engagement Lord Stark?"

She didn't hear her father's response, her gaze was instead fixed on Sandor's back as he weaved his way out of the hall. She looked at Renly, "Would you excuse me for just one minute?" She didn't wait to hear his response, she stumbled off the dais and tried to walk as patiently as she could to the slightly ajar door that she had just watched Sandor disappear through. When she reached it and was out of the hall she broke into a run. Her skirts making it hard to do more then a few bursts of running.

She couldn't see him anywhere, the front courtyard was void of all souls. And then it clicked. She moved to the gate that led to the Godswood, praying that he would be there.

When she burst through the foliage, her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness and for a split second her heart sank as she thought it was empty. But then a voice came floating out of nowhere, a voice that made her head swim and her heart race.

"So the wolf bitch has come to mock the Hound?" His laugh was raspy and threatening, "Shouldn't you be in there, drinking to your future? After all it will only be a matter of months before you are living in the lap of luxury with a Baratheon runt in your belly."

She looked away, "You don't get it do you? Do you honestly think that I willingly accepted this? I did it for my family. My father needs Renly's support. What would you have given my father in response to my hand? You have no lands, no titles, no money or influence."

He glared at her, his eyes alight with fury, "Love. I had love to offer you. But apparently that's not enough."

She was ashamed with herself, she stepped back. "I love you too."

"Then where's the problem?! Why do you have to marry him, that bastard?"

"Because I have a duty…"

"Fuck duty…" He walked towards her, gripping her arms, "Run away with me. We'll go to the Free Cities, we'll raise our children away from the hypocrisy that is Westeros." He leant down and kissed her hungrily, his fingers straying to the laces that kept her dress together. Gently he began to tug at them. She pushed him away.

"No."

Anger flashed through his eyes. "That's your decision is it? To remain here and become the quiet little wife of a man who won't treat you as well as I would."

She didn't respond, instead she gave him one last lingering look and a chaste kiss on the cheek, "I'm sorry Sandor."

She left the clearing.


	21. Chapter 21

New chapter! And after that emotional twist I have another up my sleeve. I really want this to be an emotional escapade and a sort of fight between right and wrong between Tarynn's love for Sandor and the duty that Eddard keeps suffocating her with.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 21.

Over the last few days, Tarynn had managed to make herself scarce from the toils of the tourney. She had feigned illness, and remained in her chambers, avoiding everyone par Tilana and Bronte. She could not handle seeing Renly, even though he came calling for her. The baskets of flowers were proof of that, each one holding a signed card with the name Renly on. But her heart ached, and all her energy was taken up by curling up in a ball and making sure that her heart didn't fracture into a million shards. She had broken her own heart, and it was killing her inside.

She requested all her meals to come to her rooms; she had not seen any of her sisters since the night that Renly had announced their engagement. Although she heard Sansa's voice through her heavy wooden door asking Tilana if she could see Tarynn just for a second. Tilana had come in, to ask Tarynn's permission, and Tarynn had refused it. If she saw Sansa she would begin to cry, something that she usually reserved for bedtime, crying herself to sleep seemed cliché but her eyelids always seemed to drift to a close after she had allowed the tears to flow.

The tourney had started three days past, and she constantly asked Tilly and Bronte for any news of the jousts, melee and archery contests. Who had made it through to the next rounds and who hadn't. The same names kept on recurring; Loras Tyrell, Gregor Clegane, Ser Jaime, Lothor Brune, even Renly had defeated a couple of people in the jousts so his name was still in the standings, Thoros of Myr was another name that continued cropping up, Toby of Casterly Rock, much to her suprise and Sandor Clegane. When Tilana had told her, her voice had betrayed her disdain, although she had kept her face clear of any expression.

Tarynn had heard her handmaidens whispers about the 'vile dog' who was 'constantly sniffing around dear Lady Tarynn', and it didn't stop until Tarynn ordered any gossip to dissipate, that she would not listen to it. Bronte had pouted, Tilana had nodded, and Tarynn had slunk back into bed. Pulling the coverlets over her head and blocking out the bright light that streamed through the window.

That had been yesterday however, and now, as Tilana pulled back the gossamer curtains which caused Tarynn to wake, the handmaidens had decided that enough was enough, Tarynn needed to attend one of the tourney events and she couldn't stay cooped up inside forever.

"Lady Tarynn, were you thinking of venturing outside for once this century?"

Tilana, moved to the wardrobe, flinging it open and pulling out one of Tarynn's best day dresses. Tarynn yawned, sitting up and stretching before pushing the covers off her bare legs.

"I don't think I could face anyone, perhaps tomorrow."

"You said that yesterday Tarynn, come, tell me. What has gotten you so mournful? You are an engaged woman now, ready to be wed, to have a family. Is that not something to be joyful of? Or perhaps Tilly is being a fool woman, and surmising the wrong things." Tilly sat on the bed beside Tarynn, pulling the younger girl into her embrace. "Tell me."

Tarynn wanted to tell her, Tilana reminded her of Gerta and it was reassuring to have a sort of mother figure in King's Landing. Tilana was reaching her 35th year, and even though she didn't look old, she had explained to Tarynn that it was because of her time spent in Brothels. The women who cost the most would be the ones treated the best, their skin was kept supple and smooth, their hair soft and shiny.

"It's nothing."

Tilana scoffed, holding Tarynn at arms length, the bracelets on her wrists jingling, "It is not nothing, it is something, and I must be as blind as that fool Bronte to not see it. You are scared and hurt… Yes I see it now."

Tarynn looked away, sighing, "I've done an awful thing."

"I see…" Tilana stood, standing in front of Tarynn with her hands on her hips, "You conceal yourself well Lady Tarynn Stark, but beyond your righteous demeanour I know something plagues you, perhaps has even scarred you…" When Tilana didn't get a response she sighed. "I have had a present made for you, it was supposed to be an engagement present from both me and Bronte, it's not much, but I thought you might like it."

Tilana reached inside the wardrobe, pulling out a gown of dornish silk and thin fabric, "It is hot today, wear this instead," It was a light blue, and Tarynn stood, moving towards Tilana and running her fingers over the soft fabric.

"It's beautiful."

"And you need not wear a corset; I know how much you hate them."

Tarynn looked up, "Thank you Tilly, this is wonderful."

The dress hugged her body loosely, the style that Tilly had dressed her in was reminiscent of the dornish. It was perfect and beautiful, she also knew that it would turn more than a few heads, she was supposed to be wearing a traditional Westeros dress, but since what her father had made her do she figured that she couldn't care less. Let people talk, she had done what her father had wanted, she was sure that he could handle her wearing something a little more outrageous.

When Tilana had disappeared in order to inform Tarynn's father and sisters that she was indeed going to break her fast with them, Bronte made an appearance, carrying a box full of Tarynn's phials.

"Oh, Tarynn, you're up. Maester Pycelle sent this for you, he also hopes that you get better but I can see that his hopes are not needed."

"No they're not, but if you see him again Bronte tell him that I am grateful for the extra vials. Just put them on my desk."

Bronte nodded, dumping the box on Tarynn's desk. After she had done so she waved some envelopes in Tarynn's direction, "These are for you, two from Winterfell, and another from Highgarden."

She handed them over, and Tarynn eagerly opened one of the ones from Winterfell;

_Dearest Tarynn,_

_Your previous letter was not something that we were expecting to hear, you have been in King's Landing for only a short time and already you are betrothed, and to Lord Renly no doubt! I have heard others gossip about him, saying that he's handsome and strong. Perhaps you were right to turn down Theon, this Renly sounds like quite the catch. Maester Luwin on the other hand just grunted when I told him the news, I think he still thinks of you as that little girl who used to hang onto his every word._

_Everything else is fine here; Maester Luwin has been tweaking your medicine, even though you don't need him to anymore. I think it just keeps him busy. I miss you Tarynn, we all do. I'm thinking of buying passage to the wedding, if you wanted me to? I know it's not proper for an old handmaid to attend their mistress's wedding but you've been my little sister for as long as I can remember, even if we are not joined by blood._

_Little Rickon misses you as well, and there has been no change in Bran as of yet. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news but there is some good news as well, Maester Luwin says that he will wake up out of this comatose, when however is a different question._

_Anyway my darling Tarynn, write to me as soon as you are able! Jed always comments on how good a mood I am in after I've read one of your letters._

_We miss you._

_Gerta, Maester Luwin, Jed, and all the others you left behind at Winterfell._

Tarynn folded the letter and gently laid it down on her desk, hot tears pinpricked at her eyes but she hurriedly wiped away the feeling with the back of her hand. She missed Winterfell awfully. She turned to the next one, the envelope was closed with red seal, a direwolf emblem had been pressed into it and her thoughts drifted to Tome.

_I wonder how big he is now, if he has a pack? I do hope he has a pack._

She peeled the seal off of the envelope, sliding the heavy parchment out. She had surmised that it would have been from her mother and brothers, but her heart sank as she realised who it had been penned by.

_Tarynn,_

_Knowing my luck you're read the first line and realised that it wasn't from your family and decided to rip it up, if you haven't then I guess I'm still in your good graces, if marred slightly. I have heard that you are engaged to Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End, and I want to congratulate you, but I am also writing to you in order to find out if perhaps you have changed your mind? I can change, and I know my actions have come across as self confident and demanding but if you would accept me… Then just think about it, the Iron Islands, ours._

_Write to me, please._

_Ever yours,_

_Theon Greyjoy, last remaining son and heir to the Iron Islands._

She crumpled the letter up and threw it into the corner of her room, how could he just write to her and expect everything to be forgiven?

_That over confident pig headed man of a fool!_

The last one had a seal the colour of the deepest leaves, a rose pressed into it. She fingered it gently before prising it open, the letter dropped out, as well as a silver and blue rose pendant.

_Dearest Lady Tarynn,_

_You must forgive me for not writing you sooner but I have had many things on my mind, and many hobbies that I keep occupying my time. Your father contacted my father and my grandmother about the pact of marriage between our two houses. However it seems that I am too late in responding. I wish you the best in your impending marriage and hope that one day we shall meet._

_Willas Tyrell._

She left the letter and the rose pendant with Gerta's before smoothing down her new clothing. She smiled at Bronte who was about to begin stripping the bed before leaving the room.

Her father and sisters were sat around the small breakfast table in a room that had a balcony which overlooked the city of King's Landing; Arya had been idly stabbing at an orange whilst Sansa was picking at something on her sleeve. Their father had been looking over missives until he noticed that Tarynn had indeed decided to join them for breakfast.

"Ah, so I see you have decided to re-join the ranks of the living… How do you feel?"

He stood, taking his oldest daughter into his arms she mumbled her answer against the collar of his shirt, "Much better thank you, I just needed a few days rest is all."

"Well I'm glad that you have decided to show your face at least, Renly has been visiting everyday only to be met with the same reception. He deserves to be treated better now that you are both engaged to married."

He allowed her to sit down and she reached for an orange, going for the more orthodox way of peeling it instead of stabbing at it with a table knife. Sansa looked up at her.

"Ser Loras Tyrell is doing wonderfully in the jousts. I don't think he's lost a single one. Maybe he'll win…" Sansa grew wistful. "Oh," She stood disappearing into one of the alcoves before reappearing with a bunch of bright orange and pink flowers, "Renly left this for you, he came by earlier this morning, he wanted to see you as he is jousting today."

Sansa put the flowers down in front of her, "Against?"

Arya answered, sullen and moody, "The Hound, that lowlife scum of a…"

Their father's voice cut through the air, silencing Arya, "Arya that is enough." The girl slumped back in her chair, laying the knife on the table. Ned Stark turned to address his two oldest daughters; "Tarynn and Sansa you are to stick together today, Arya, you are to remain with me." They all stood, and Sansa gripped Tarynn's arm, pulling her towards the door. "Tarynn? What are you wearing?" She turned back to face her father.

"Traditional dornish dress."

"Is it… wise to be wearing that here in King's Landing."

She shrugged her shoulders, "I will soon be a married woman, surely you would allow me to make the most out of my last little bit of freedom."

Her father frowned but nodded, ushering her on and out the door. "Sit in front of the royal box, and mind yourselves."

Once out of the small dining room Sansa began to chatter excitedly, "Renly clearly likes you, he sent so many flowers up to your room, did you see them all?" Tarynn nodded, it was hard not to notice the overflowing amounts of flora that now occupied her room. The pollen often made her sneeze as well. "I wish Joffrey sent me flowers, but all he ever seems to do is hold my hand whenever we're with other people." Sansa pouted and Tarynn gently took her hand in her own.

"Men are strange creatures, not that I'm saying that Joffrey is a man but still, sometimes they don't act in the way you want them to act." She glanced down at Sansa's auburn hair, her voice growing wistful, "Sometimes they can be harsh and ignorant, or unemotional and impenetrable. It doesn't mean that they love you any less."

"Is that how Renly treats you sometimes Ta?"

Tarynn squeezed Sansa's hand before letting it go, "No. No, Renly doesn't treat me like that, but someone else does." She had said too much, she realised that as soon as the flash of confusion crossed Sansa's face, she quickly changed the subject. "Anyway San, you look beautiful today, the dark blue really brings out the colour of your eyes."

The younger girl grinned before beginning to gabble on about her dress.

_Crisis averted._

The tourney was overflowing with people, those from the lower classes mingled with the upper, vendors walked amongst the tents and seating areas calling out their wares. Horses neighed, men shouted in anger at their squires whenever something got messed up. As they passed many women and men bowed their heads to Sansa and herself. Obviously being two of the four guests of honour had something to do with that, but they were also the most powerful family in the North, and that couldn't be forgotten.

A couple of jousters were practicing in the jousting arena when she spotted a flash of dark grey steel disappear around the corner of a tent, she had seen Renly as well, chatting to Loras Tyrell and a couple of women she didn't know but that wasn't what captured her attention.

"I will be back shortly San, find our seats." She kissed her sister on the cheek before weaving through the crowd of people towards where she saw that glint of dark grey metal.

"Sorry, excuse me, I'm sorry," She gently tapped a man on the shoulder; he bowed as he moved out of the way, "Thank you."

People swarmed the grounds of the Red Keep, she had never seen so many souls in one place, and it was overwhelming and exciting. When she reached the tent area the amount of people began to thin, and she could move freely without the fear of walking into someone or something. She rounded a corner, and spotted a dull yellow tent with a flag with three hounds flying above it, her heart leaped to her mouth and she hazards a peek inside.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you, my brother is a very private person and he doesn't take kindly to foreigners poking their big noses into his…" She turned round, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. "Tarynn."

Sandor took a step back, he was wearing full armour and nestled under his arm was his trademark helm, and his scar was hidden by his matted black hair. He looked like he had been dragged through hell, his face was haggard, his breath stank of wine, and he smelt like something had died. Her stance softened and she reached out, touching him lightly on the face.

"What have you been doing to yourself?"

His laugh was deep, raspy and unfriendly, "What have I been doing after the woman I love decided to rip my heart out? Drinking myself into fucking oblivion. But you…" He pointed a finger at her, "But you I hear have been sleeping like a baby, without a fucking care in the world. Hiding up there in your fucking tower, concealing yourself from the world like the fucking craven you are."

She slapped him, hard and fast across the face; her eyes were blinded by tears her voice choked with anger. "How dare you. Do you think you're the only one who isn't hurting Sandor? Typical you isn't it? To think that everyone owes you something. That chip on your shoulder is so large it could pass for another head you fucking drunkard. I don't know what I saw in you."

She turned to leave, it had been a mistake to come and see him but he grabbed hold of her wrist in his steely grip, clamping his fingers down. "I'm going to kill him you know. I'm going to run a stake through his throat. Mark my words. You were mine, and now I've lost you to a fucking dandy. I hope black suits you, though with your complexion and eyes I think you could wear anything and still look beautiful."

His eyes soften, and Tarynn felt herself falling back into his gaze. She shook her head to clear the fog that was clouding her mind and judgement. "Don't. If you kill him I'll never look at you again. I won't talk to you, I won't put you out if you got caught on fire." He openly flinched, "Kill him, and I'll make sure you'll never see the light of day again… Hound."

He let go of her hand, stumbling backwards a few steps, a look of bewilderment on his face. He reached out to her as she started to walk away and she glanced back over her shoulder, his eyes looked remorseful. "Tarynn please, don't leave me."

She stopped, her shoulders hunched, she raised her hands putting them over her heart. It hurt to breath, every time her chest heaved with every intake of air a sharp pain stabbed through her, running her through. "I wish this wasn't so. I want to be with you, I do."

"Then why don't you? No woman has ever had the guts to talk to me like that. No one. If anyone tried to I would have not hesitated in running a sword through them. But you… You change me; you give me something to live for."

She turned, the tears streaming down her face. "I can't, you know that. We were doomed from the very start."

She disappeared between the tents, running back towards the stands, brushing away the tears furiously.

She was still driving the knife deeper into her already scarred heart.

*Sandor*

He was filled with a blind rage; he wanted to kill someone with his bare hands. He wanted to twist their head off and present it to her like the barbarians of old used to do in order to impress a potential mate. He wanted to watch as the light flooded out of a man's eyes. He wanted to listen to that last heart beat before it guttered to a stop.

He picked up one of his practice lances, holding it firmly before snapping it in two. He threw the sharp end like a spear with a loud roar; it stuck in the ground several yards away. He was angry, and that anger fuelled his strength. He was going to win this tournament, he was going to impress Tarynn and her father, he was going to become the victor of the tourney of the Hand.

He had mounted Stranger and his temporary squire handed him his lance this one was several feet of dark grey metal; it glinted menacingly in the sunlight.

"Hand me my wine skin boy."

The child did so, almost tripping over his feet in the process, his hand shook as he held it up. Sandor snatched it from him and gulped down almost half of it before throwing it to the ground.

"I want more whenever I get back here, got it?"

The boy nodded and Sandor dug his heels into Stranger, the horse neighed before following his master's command. When he trotted into view, no one cheered for him. There was a couple of boos, and smattering of hisses, but he was used to it. The only one who looked genuinely pleased to see him was the little shit Joffrey. Two seats away from him was Tarynn.

_My Tarynn._

She sat still and stoic beside her sister the little bird. She reminded him in that moment of Catelyn Stark, the matriarch of House Stark. Her eyes swept over him, but they were cold and filled with hurt and fear.

_I don't want her to hate me. But how can she not? When every action I do or perform is to cause pain or harm to someone._

He thought he saw a tear slip down her cheek but perhaps it had been a trick of the light. He snapped his visor down and readied his lance. When Renly came trotting out he crowd roared like a fearsome dragon. He raised his hand and trotted over to where Tarynn sat in the stands, he leant down and she stood up, kissing him on the cheek. The crowd went crazy, they howled and stamped their feet and Sandor turned to stone.

_I'll fucking smash his face in so much that they'll have a hard time identifying him._

He watched with narrowed eyes as Renly manourvered his horse and lined up, he gave a small nod, and Sandor returned it before they both readied their weapons and waited for the tilt to start.

In that half a second, everything around him became clear. He was able to pick out every motion, every action that might betray his opponents thoughts and strategy.

There was the sound of a horn and Sandor dug his heels into Stranger's side, sending his steed into a full blown gallop, half way he lowered his lance and that was when he realised that Renly had made a fatal mistake.

*Tarynn.*

She watched the joust on the edge of her seat, her fingers clutching the wooden fence in front of her as both men sent their steeds into a fast and furious gallop. It happened so quick that she could hardly process it. Renly hadn't been quick enough when raising his shield and Sandor's aim was right on target.

Renly went flying, and she bolted up right. Deep down inside her she was glad, glad that Renly had been taken down a peg, she wanted to run to Sandor and congratulate him, to tell the crowd that it was he who she loved, and not Renly. But she was compelled by Sansa's screams, and King Robert's roar of anger to run to Renly.

When she neared him she fell to her knees into the mud. Renly was spluttering and struggling to breath, she shouted at someone, anyone to help her get his armour off as it was concaved and pressing down on his chest and lungs. Once off Tarynn ran her fingers down his ribs, Renly winced in pain.

"Two ribs are broken, and there is substantial bruising but his lungs haven't been pierced. Had the aim been anymore to the right then it would have killed him." Renly coughed, and she lowered her voice. "Sssh, be still."

He gripped her hand and wheezed, "Don'… Leave… Stay by… My… Side."

Her heart melted slightly as she looked over a man who had almost been killed by his own cockiness. When men came to lift him onto a moving bed much like the one she had used to move Bran after his fall, she walked with him, her hand still gripped in his.

She turned back once to look at Sandor. He stood with his legs apart, the wind messing up his hair, his face void of any sorrow or pity.


	22. Chapter 22

It's been a while I know, but here is another update for you! Enjoy.

Slightlynerdy.

* * *

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 22.

Renly swallowed down the milk of the poppy that the Grandmaester held to his lips, surrounding him was King Robert, Eddard Stark, Arya, Sansa, Loras Tyrell and Tarynn as well. She was sat beside him, her hand still encased in his grip. He groaned often in pain.

"The ribs will take a little while to heal, but they will heal and they will set themselves with hardly any intervention. Bed rest is the best course of action. The break was clean, surprisingly." Pycelle straightened and addressed Tarynn, "You're ability to diagnose broken bones and other ailments is impressive Lady Tarynn, if I may be bold enough to say." He dipped his head in goodbye and she returned the courtesy before allowing her eyes to fall back onto Renly's form.

"That Hound, Clegane, will answer for this."

"Now, now Ser Loras, its all done in good sport, if you think that my brother is the first to be injured in a joust then you are sorely mistaken."

As the time passed, people made their excuses to leave. The King was required to return to the tourney, as was Eddard, Arya and Sansa. Loras had to prepare for his joust which was up next. That left Tarynn to sit with Renly, listening to his laboured breathing and wiping his forehead with a cold, wet cloth. Eventually he fell into a drug induced sleep, she prised her hand away from his and stood, brushing off the mud that had dried on her dress.

There were guards stationed outside of Renly's tent and she nodded to them as she passed, "My Lady."

She wanted to find him, to ask him what he hoped to achieve by harming Renly. Her mind was filled with a mixture of rage and awe. Rage because he had done something that she had specifically asked him not to do and had almost killed a man, and awe because he was willing to be penalised for harming Lord Renly Baratheon, one of the younger brothers of the king just for a chance to be with her. She searched high and low but she couldn't find him, and perhaps that was a good thing, she wouldn't have known whether to yell at him or kiss him. She returned back to Renly, and sat by his side religiously for the rest of the day, watching his chest heave laboriously, his brow shining with sweat. He would cough often, and she would wipe the spittle from his lips. She cried, not for Renly's condition but rather for hers.

_Is this what my life will boil down to? Wiping chins and holding hands? Will I not get any glimpse of adventure? Will I be subjected to this man's bed for the rest of my life…?_

She turned away from Renly, lowering her head into her hands and sobbed. The tears ran down over her fingers, splattering onto the skirt of her dress. When she had finished she went to the basin that stood in the corner and washed her face, trying to erase the track marks that her tears had made.

"Lady Tarynn?"

She turned, reaching for a towel and dabbing her face quickly in order to address whoever it was standing outside of the tent.

"Yes? Please, do come in."

Loras Tyrell poked his head around the tent flap, his forest green eyes sweeping over Renly's still form. "I… How is he?"

She nodded her head, and gestured him into the room. "He is in great pain, but the milk of the poppy takes the edge off. He coughs as well, often, and this could cause further trauma to his ribs."

Loras sat in the stool that she had previously occupied and clasped Renly's hand, letting out a sigh. The whisper was barely audible. "What am I going to do with you?"

Tarynn threw the towel over the edge of the basin, her pale fingers gripping the china as she sighed, "I know Loras."

The man turned, "What? What do you…"

"You and Renly, I would be a fool if I could not see it."

Loras stood, "Lady Tarynn I don't know what you are talking about."

She released her hold on the bowl, she looked at him, her gaze strong and steady, "Don't try and lie to me Loras, I've seen the way you look at one another."

The fight seemed to ebb out of his eyes, his posture slumped slightly, "I won't get in your way Lady Tarynn, you are to be his wife and I won't come between you but…"

Tarynn stepped closer and reached for Loras' hands, she searched his eyes, "But you love him."

He ducked his head, "It is a crime to love another man."

Tarynn squeezed his hand gently, she felt genuine sorrow for Loras, her mind rattled with kind words to say but then an idea crossed her thoughts and a plan was hatched. She decided to take the opportunity.

"Your secret is safe with me Ser Loras, but I need your help. I want… I need to break this betrothal. Work on Renly, use whatever you need. Convince him against wedding me. But please, do not mar my name."

Loras blinked, confused. "I'm sorry, you don't want to be married to Renly, but I thought…"

"That I had feelings for him? No… You are mistaken; I love Renly as a friend, perhaps even a brother. But I could never be what you are to him. Please, say you'll help me?"

"If this is what you truly want, I will persuade Renly into marrying another. In fact..."

Tarynn's eyes widened, "Tell me."

"My father and Lord Renly had wanted to replace Queen Cersei with my sister, Margaerey."

"I've heard about Margaerey, she is said to be a sweet girl."

"She is, my Lady, but your father interceded, we had hoped that she looked like Lyanna Stark."

"That was a cruel ploy Loras."

"It was, but we are desperate in our want to be rid of Cersei as Queen. However it seems that there is only one woman in this realm that bares striking resemblance to the fabled Lyanna Stark." His gaze was poignant, he was pointing out her own likeness to her deceased aunt.

Tarynn's gaze didn't falter, "Many have commented on my resemblance to my aunt, but please, continue."

"After our plan to replace Cersei with Margaerey dissipated, my father, in a bid to bring the Houses Tyrell closer to Baratheon planned to wed my sister to Lord Renly… My father wanted as many connections as he could possibly concoct, which is why he was willing to accept you as a wife for Willas. However Renly often told me that he was inspired by your willpower, and that your father had come to him first with the offer of your hand in marriage. So he accepted, it was an honour he said to have been considered by the stoic Lord Stark as a possible candidate for his eldest daughter."

Tarynn let go of Loras' hands and reached up to fumble with her pendants as she thought, "So what you're saying is that you could convince Renly to marry Margaery as oppose to me…"

Loras grinned, rather seductively, "I can be very persuasive."

Tarynn smiled, "I bet, well then Ser Loras I leave this in your capable hands. If you do this for me, your secret will never surface, and you will be able to keep Renly closer to you. If I had married him, I had planned on replacing you as his squire with another. But if this works, you can have him until death parts you both."

She turned to leave but Loras called out to her, "Why didn't you just refuse him then? Why must you break the betrothal in such a cloak and dagger fashion? Is he not what you want?

She looked over her shoulder at him, "The heart does not choose who you can love, surely Ser Loras you can relate to that. Renly and I would have been happy enough, I am sure, but there would be no passion… No thrills. Besides, my father would have never forgiven me if I broke another marriage pact. I was supposed to wed Theon Greyjoy but I managed to wriggle my way out that one too. Ser Loras, I long for adventure and I will not find any tied down to Renly… He is all yours."

She left the tent without another word. The sun was setting, sending its fading orange rays across the sea of tents. She doubled back towards the stands, only to find it practically devoid of souls par the servants that were clearing up. She resigned herself to the fact that she would not be able to see Sandor again today and returned to the tower of the Hand.

* * *

When she opened her door to her rooms she was met by Sansa and Arya, both perched on the end of her bed.

"Oh Tarynn! How is Renly?"

"He's fine, he'll recuperate in time. What are you doing here?"

"Father left rather urgently, he said he had business to take care of and told us to wait for you." Arya walked over to her, and gave her a gentle hug, "Will you come watch one of my lessons Tarynn? Syrio tells me that you would be a welcomed spectator. Please, please, father is too busy and I don't want Sansa there."

Tarynn reached down and affectionately stroked Arya's hair, "Of course I will… Now I bet you're both hungry, come, let's go order some food."

Tarynn took her sisters hands and ventured to the dining room, there she found a young girl stoking the fire, she gave her orders for their supper to be readied and sent to them. She also made a specific mention of lemon cakes.

When the servants brought up a couple of trays and platters of food and drink, Tarynn thanked them and sent them away, Sansa laughed.

"You're reminding me of mother Tarynn. It's funny."

Tarynn smiled, "Someone has to look after you rascals, especially since our father is no where to be seen. Now go on, I ordered the lemon cakes for you."

Arya reached for a bread roll and Sansa delicately arranged some lemon cakes onto her plate, "Have you seen Septa Mordane lately? She looks like she's swallowed something rotten and it's still haunting her."

Tarynn laughed and Sansa replied, "It might be because I don't need her anymore, the queen has been giving me lessons on etiquette instead."

Arya's face darkened and Tarynn reached out to sooth her baby sister. She knew where Arya's thoughts had gone, to Nymeria, Tome and poor Lady.

As the evening progressed Tarynn took charge of ensuring that her sisters went to bed at the correct times, and that the supper had been cleared away. By the time she had returned to her own rooms she was exhausted, and wanted nothing more then to cover herself in her bed covers and sleep... But she knew that she should go to the Godswood and pray for Renly's swift recovery, even though she was plotting against him.

She donned her cloak; the brown one that she had received from the small family that she had met in the alleyways of King's Landing and skulked down the stairs. Her heart beating fast whenever she thought she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Finally she reached the yard and moved swiftly towards the gate that led to the Godswood. It creaked when she pushed it open.

The ghostly pale heart tree seemed to glow when she approached it, she reached out, her fingers running over the smooth bark, her finger tips being stained by the red sap that leaked from its innards. She fell to her knees, her skirts splayed out around her, she fiddled with the grass as she made her prayers. Praying for everyone; her father and mother, her sisters and brothers. Renly, Loras, Even her bastard brother Jon who was now on the wall and starting his journey in becoming a brother of the black. Lastly she uttered a quick prayer for Sandor, asking her Gods for forgiveness for his actions.

A twig snapped and she stood quickly before facing the darkness that was threatening to creep in, she should have brought a candle.

"Who goes there," There was no answer, "Show yourself."

Her intruder did, he moved from the shadows and into the dim light of the moon, tall and dark. Silent. She breathed out a sigh of relief, but the anger still bubbled up inside her, threatening to overspill. She narrowed her eyes, and he returned her gaze without faltering.

"Tarynn, please allow me to explain."

"You almost killed him, a could of inches to the left and you would have punctured his lung. What on earth were you thinking?! You could have killed the King's favourite brother and then where would you be? Lining up for Ilyn Payne's chopping block no doubt. You are a fool, a great big idiot."

He looked down at the ground, he was angry at her, she could feel it coming off of him in waves but he didn't move to strike her or berate her. It was like he was trying to control his temper. Suddenly she very guilty, she moved towards him, reaching for his hand and holding it loosely. He looked up, his grey eyes burning into her soul, his burns an angry red. Flushed from the heat of the day and his rage. Gently she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He took hold of her hand, pressing it up and against his chest. He was wearing a crude linen shirt and thick spun brown trousers, she shivered involuntarily when she felt him nuzzle her face and gently kiss the spot behind her ear. His voice was gruff and close.

"Will you forgive me? Irrational thought and anger made me want to take your little fucker of a betrothed out. "

She pulled away from him, her gaze lingered on his features, on his scraggly black hair, his nose. He wasn't handsome, far from, and she didn't entirely understand why she felt for him the way that she did. She walked away from him, crossing her arms and gazing at the bone white sentinel tree. Her voice was quiet when she responded.

"He won't be my betrothed for much longer… Plans have been made for Renly to find another. Ser Loras and I are working on making little Margaerey Tyrell to become his lawful wedded wife. I feel that she would be a much better fit then I to run Renly's household. Plus, Loras gets to remain at Renly's side. It's a win-win situation."

She turned to look over her shoulder, a seductive grin plastered onto her features. Sandor shook his head in disbelief, his unique grin stretching his scar.

"You, my love, are a genius."

She laughed, "It was a plan that came to me in the spur of the moment. Loras didn't want to loose his precious Renly, so the obvious tact would be to make Renly family… That poor sod, I can't help but feel that Renly tainted him. How young do you think they started?"

"To be honest wolf, I'd rather not think about what those two do under the sheets."

Tarynn laughed again before turning around fully to face him, "And what about you, what do you do under the sheets?" She threw him a flirtatious glance which caused the Hound to cough and splutter before looking down at the ground.

"It's true that I am no stranger to the wiles of women…"

"Oh very cryptic." She smiled softly, moving closer towards him and gentle caressing his scarred cheek, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. "It makes no difference to me who you have bedded in the past." He looked up at her, and kissed the tip of her nose, a surprisingly gentle move.

His voice was husky, "And I know that you _are_ a stranger to… Intimate situations."

She smiled shyly, "Let's just say that I haven't had the opportunity to experience it yet…" She found herself leaning into him, his lips mashing against hers and drawing the breath out of her lungs. When they stopped for air, she placed her hands against his chest, "And I won't. Not yet."

Sandor gripped her arms, "Then I will wait. It makes no difference to me as long as I can hold you and protect you."

No one mentioned the ordeal from earlier, the spiteful words that were tossed at one another, but somehow the anger that they both felt only fueled the passion that they held for one another. Their meeting ended with passionate kissing beneath the boughs of the white sentinel which stood, ever watchful over the troubled couple.

* * *

The door creaked open and Tarynn sharply looked up closing the book that she was reading by the light of an candle. The shadow of someone entered her room before traversing to the foot of her bed, her breath hitched and she scrambled to get out of bed, her mouth open ready to scream.

The intruder spoke first, holding up a hand, "I am not here to harm you Lady Tarynn."

The voice sent a chill up her spine, she pulled the covers off her bed, hoping to regain some modesty.

"Ser Tobias… How dare you come into my rooms without permission?"

"I apologise for that slight but I had to come and see you, I want you to reconsider."

"There is nothing to reconsider; I want you to leave my rooms."

"If only you would…"

She turned to look at him, mustering all the hatred she could into one glare. "Leave. Now."

He turned, his hand on his sword hilt, but he still spoke as he crossed to the door, "I'm jousting your pet tomorrow, I would aim for his heart… If he had one."

He closed the door and Tarynn sighed, ice began to creep around her heart as Toby's parting words settled in.

_What is it with everyone trying to kill each over in this city?_

She blew out the candle and placed the Valyrian book onto her bedside table before sliding into the covers and shutting her eyes, soon sleep over took her.

_The world blurred around her as her eyes opened, trees swayed in the breeze as she emerged in a clearing. Within it was a white orb, glowing and pulsating. Surrounding it were figures. Each one shrouded in black, their attentions fixed on the strange orb._

_She stumbled towards one, pain was shooting through her leg, she looked down. Her legs were bare and a knife protruded from her left one, blood running down in rivulets. She tried to grip the hilt but her hand passed through it._

"_Tarynn… Tarynn… Tarynn… Tarynn." The whisper resonated through her skull and she collapsed on the ground._

"_Look at what they've done to us Tarynn, look at what they did. Guide us to the light Tarynn, reveal what they have hid."_

_The shrouded figures began to converge on her, their hoods melting into their faces before dripping off of them in thick black liquid. Staring at her were the faces of her loved ones. Her father's eyes were sunken and black, his hair matted, a gory line stretched across his neck, his head severed from his shoulders. Beside him was her mother, her face grey and mottled her hair white and brittle. She too had an open wound stretching across her neck. Three more stood with her father and mother. One had the body of a human, but the head of a wolf. The other two were badly burned, so burned that she could not discern who they were. She shuffled back her heart beating loud as they stretched out their arms towards her. Out of nowhere a figure on horseback burst into the clearing, slashing at the ghouls, he stopped in front of her, stretching out his hand to her. She took it and began to scream…_

She woke up, cold sweat beading on her forehead as she pushed away the covers and toppled out of her bed and onto the floor. She was a mess, shaking, her teeth chattering. The room was black, she couldn't see anything. The dream still swirled around her mind, tugging at the corners of her conscience. Slowly she stood, and she heard the door swing open.

There was a crash and a gasp, "Lady Tarynn are you all right?" Hands guided her back to her bed and she sat down on the edge of it. "Stay here, I'm going to fetch the Maester." The voice left her shaking and shivering, her eyesight was gone and she was dazed. After a few moments, footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor along with muffled talking.

The door burst open again and there was the sound of someone tutting, "So this is what happens to her when she decides to forget to take her sleeping medicine. Yes, very curious." Someone forced her to look up by gripping her chin, "Oh my." Someone backed away from her, "Her eyes… They're… White. Pure white no irises or anything. She's blind."

There was another gasp, "I need to get Lord Stark."

Tarynn stood, her body moving of its own accord, her arms hanging loosely. Her head snapped up.

"What's the meaning of this, Maester Pycelle?"

"My Lord, your daughter, she seems to be…"

"Tarynn?"

The voice that emitted from Tarynn Stark's mouth was not her own, it was guttural and deep.

"People scheme against you. Plot to take away everything you hold dear. They'll take them, slit their throats, burn them, bury them under fallen towers and broken crowns. The wolves will fall, the city will burn, the truth will remain concealed. Life is fleeting, the end abrupt, for this world… It's… Corrupt."

Tarynn fell to the floor, a crumpled heap, strong arms enveloped her, lifting her off of the floor and onto the bed.

"You've seen this before?"

"Yes, only once. She had one of these… fits… a fair few weeks before a favourite servant died. She went blind and recited some cryptic message, when she wakes up, she never remembers a thing."

"I see. I've heard something about this, but I am no expert on the states of dreams or possessions. I can send a letter to one of my contemporaries if you like."

"Thank you Maester Pycelle. Please, could I have some milk of the poppy? She is still convulsing slightly."

"Of course."

When Tarynn woke up, her mind was numb and her limbs felt heavy; the after effects of milk of the poppy but she couldn't remember taking them. In fact she couldn't remember much beside a dream that continued to haunt her even with morning's rays trickling in through the windows. She sat up stretched and moved to the basin to splash her face with cold water, it revitalised her, opening her eyes wider and removing some of the sleepiness that still lingered.

She didn't know what the time was so she decided to just don a sleep robe and go to the kitchens, she was unusually hungry. She went down there bare footed, the kitchen tiles were cool beneath her feet. There was pile of freshly baked lemon cakes. She took one off the top and bit into it, savouring the warm, buttery texture.

There was a bang, and a couple of loud voices.

"I'm sorry ser we don't have any wine left."

"Fuck that, this is Robert's Keep now, there's always wine. He's as much a pisshead as I am. Now, let me into the wine cellar boy."

Tarynn crept to the door. There was the sound of the clinking of keys and impatient tapping of feet. She inched open the door and sure enough Sandor was looming over a young lad who was fiddling with a ring of keys. The wooden door that they were standing in front of swung inwards and Sandor pushed the boy out of the way.

"Don't worry, I won't drink it all. Now go on, scram."

The boy gave Sandor the stink eye before heading towards the door that Tarynn was standing behind, she pressed herself into a corner and waited. The boy passed, mumbling under his breath. When he was out of sight she moved to the door that led down to the wine cellar, Sandor had closed it behind him so she opened it and slipped inside.

The stone steps were like ice against her bare feet as she travelled deeper into the depths of the castle. When she reached the end of the stairs, a lone torch flickered in a bracket, casting light against rows and rows of barrels. A couple of bottles were scattered around as well. He stood in the corner, squinting at the labels, uncorking a couple and taking a swig of their contents before putting it down again. She cleared her throat.

"Look can't you see I'm very busy…" He turned to her, "Wolf what are you doing down here?"

She made a vague gesture with her arms, she felt light headed and peculiar, "I was hungry, I came to the kitchens and I heard your voice. I decided to come…" She staggered forward, "To come…" She fell but before she hit the ground Sandor was gathering her up in his arms.

"What? What's wrong with you? Tarynn? Tarynn can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes again, smiling weakly, "I'm fine, just weary that's all." She reached up, cupping his face. "Something happened last night, but for the life of me I cannot remember what it was. Only this strange dream…"

Sandor bent down, kissing her gently on the forehead.

She breathed out, "I'm worried Sandor, I keep on having these strange dreams."

She looked over the cellar, at the shadows creeping and pulsating, Sandor's voice was close to her ear.

"I know someone who may be able to help."

Tarynn remained clutched in Sandor's arms, the remnants of the curious dream still swirling along the peripheries of her mind.


End file.
